DARK JUSTICE

by Taylor Leon

  Ornately framed oil paintings, that I imagined had cost the same price as one of the top-class cars outside, lined the walls, and I was staring at these when I heard a voice behind me.

  ‘Have you any idea who they are?’

  I turned around to see a tanned, square jawed, thirty something guy smiling at me, teeth all whitened and straightened to perfection. I recognised him but couldn’t put my finger on where from. Certainly not my usual orbit.

  I must have looked at him quizzically because he pointed his flute at the painting I had been looking at.

  ‘The figures on the wall over there,’ he said. I turned and laughed softly, wondering if this was a catch question and I should recognise them. They were male historical portraits, one of them looking from around the time of the civil war in the 1600s, another from maybe Elizabethan times.

  ‘I have no idea,’ I confessed and looked back at him.

  He smiled and the whiteness of his teeth almost blinded me. ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘But I bet Robert Kirkland paid a fortune for them.’

  I was distracted by someone moving behind him amongst the guests. Just a brief flash. Victoria? I couldn’t be sure, as she suddenly stopped, and was enveloped by a circle of well-wishers.

  I leaned to one side to get a better look, and my new friend mimicked me.

  ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ I asked.

  ‘Darrell Flynn,’ he said extending his hand which I shook gently, trying to think where I’d heard that same before.

  He named a popular fly-on-the-wall series, about some good-looking twenty-somethings that were dumped on a paradise island and then made to act out their lives for a couple of months.

  ‘But that was a few years ago,’ he added.

  I guess I was supposed to ask him what he had been doing since then, but I didn’t care. All I wanted to do now was find Victoria and ask her why she had brought me here tonight.

  But Darrell wasn’t giving up easily. ‘So how do you know Robert?’

  I was trying to make out the crowded woman over his shoulder. The number of people surrounding her suggested to me that it was probably the hostess.

  Without looking at him I said, ‘I’m not. I’m a friend of Victoria.’

  As I said that I saw the woman move away from the group. There were still bodies blocking my vision, and I could only see her from behind. But the hair, full and tied up high, had her distinctive bronzed curls.

  ‘And what do you do?’ Darrell asked as I now faced away from him watching the figure reach the far side of the room and the open French doors which led out onto a veranda.

  ‘I’m a Detective,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Excuse me,’ I added and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the room. It was the height of rudeness, but I had been summoned here for a reason and I wanted to know what that reason was.

  I stepped outside onto the empty balcony that overlooked the spectacular floodlit garden. A long pathway cut down the middle leading to a sculptured fountain in the centre.

  I was sure I’d seen Victoria come out here, but I was alone.

  ‘Have you seen Victoria?’ someone asked me from behind.

  I turned back to the open doorway to see Robert Kirkland, whom I recognised from the gossip mags. In real life he was shorter but better looking than the pictures. His dyed, jet-black hair was a little less natural up close but alongside his tan and sparkling eyes, it still knocked a good few years off what I suspected was his mid-fifties. I don’t care what anyone ever tells me, I thought to myself. Money may not buy you happiness, but it sure as hell can buy you looks.

  ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t,’ I said.

  He smiled warmly. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we’ve met.’

  ‘Erin Dark.’

  ‘Ah, yes one of Victoria’s friends, I remember seeing your name on the guest-list. Forgive me, I would stop and chat but the Bradley’s have just arrived and I need to introduce her to them.’ He laughed to himself. ‘If you do see her, please tell her I’m looking for her.’

  And then he was gone.

  A few seconds passed before I resolved to go back inside myself, thinking that maybe I was wrong and this had nothing to do with Frankie and I approaching Anthony Norris. Maybe the reason I was brought here wasn’t that important. If it was, then surely Victoria would have seconded me by now.

  And then I heard her voice.

  ‘Good job he’s distracted,’ she said, ‘otherwise I would have been stuck out here for ages, cooling my high heels while Robert delved into your biography.’

  I looked all around, but couldn’t see her.

  ‘I think you know why I summoned you here tonight,’ she continued. Her voice was coming from the far end of the veranda, the one area that was in shadows. ‘You broke a cardinal rule this afternoon, didn’t you?

  My voice was shaking. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean,’ I lied. A stupid thing to do with Victoria.

  ‘Oh, you know exactly what I mean,’ she replied. The empty space in front of me appeared to pulse and then blur, forming itself into a tall shadow before splashes of colour were added. It was like seeing a street artist at work on fast forward. A high cascading swirl of bronzed curls, and a long black elegant dress with ruffles along the one bare shoulder. She was tall anyway, but with high heels and that hair she towered over all the women and a lot of the men.

  Now perfectly visible, Victoria stepped forward out of the shadows and fixed me with those cobalt blue eyes of hers.

  She didn’t look happy.

  28

  ‘WHY DID YOU take Frankie with you to see Anthony Norris?’ Her voice was calm and level.

  I felt a cold chill run through me and unconsciously gripped the balustrade.

  ‘He knows who killed my friends.’

  ‘Erin, I know how you must be feeling but you know the ground rules. We are not an arsenal for you to use in your day job.’

  I couldn’t help myself, the words just tumbled out. ‘You could be,’ I said.

  My response surprised her. She tilted her head and I thought for a moment I saw a hint of a smile, straining to break through. ‘You think we should wear capes and tights?’

  I stepped forward, looking a little braver than I felt. ‘We can do more.’

  ‘More?’ she repeated. ‘Frankie read him. Did he kill your friends?’

  ‘No, but he knows who did.’

  ‘But he didn’t kill them.’

  He has blood on his hands, he just washes them thoroughly.

  ‘I believe he’s killed people in the past, or at least given orders to others.’

  ‘He’s never been tried.’

  ‘He’s protected. I don’t know who by or why. Maybe the corruption goes higher and is bigger than I thought. But he’s as evil as the ones who do his dirty work. I haven’t found them yet. But I do know where he is.’

  Victoria sidled up to me. Keeping her eyes fixed on me, she slowly circled round, as though I were her prey.

  ‘So what would you propose?’ she whispered.

  I swallowed hard. ‘If I can gather together enough evidence then I want to put him up for damnation.’

  Usually Victoria intimidates me. I don’t kow-tow to her but I do usually assume a more subservient role than I was offering her right then.

  She stopped in front of me and fixed me with a look she usually reserves for the scum we eliminate.

  ‘You don’t just get to nominate people who’ve pissed you off,’ she said. ‘You’re doing this arse about face. Frankie takes readings at the end of the process prior to damnation. You and your colleagues are the law. You collate the evidence. You try him. You sentence him. We simply correct miscarriages of justice. We are not the law.’

  ‘But we don’t have to do it that way.’ I waited hoping she would say something, but she was just waiting for me to continue. ‘I didn’t join you just to find the man who killed my mother,’ I said. ‘I want justice. Th
at’s why I joined the police force. That’s why I joined The Coven.’

  Victoria stooped down so her face was inches away from mine. The smell of her expensive perfume was intoxicating and she smiled like the devil. ‘Kelly Crowther, Derek Mundy, didn’t you do good there?’ she said. ‘Men who had at least been trialled, but escaped punishment through loopholes in the law or plain police incompetence. Men who had the opportunity to show remorse, but showed none.

  Erin, if you see The Coven as another weapon at your disposal, then I have to disappoint you. This is not your personal army. We all have our scars. That is why we are here. In that regard you are not unique. What you can’t do is go off on some personal crusade. There must be order.’

  Some noise from inside the drawing room must have caught her attention and she looked over my shoulder towards the open French doors. ‘I have to go back inside,’ she said

  ‘I know you don’t think I’m as fully committed as the other girls,’ I said. ‘You think one day I will have enough of this and leave.’

  She frowned. A sure sign she was trying to read me.

  ‘One of the girls told you, did they?’ she said

  I shrugged. ‘What if they did?’

  She ignored my question. ‘I read you when you first joined. I know you have dreams of getting married, raising a family, living a so-called normal life.’

  ‘You don’t think I can do both?’

  ‘I know you can’t. You couldn’t do what I do, or what Moira does and keep a secret life like this away from someone you love.’

  ‘So what happens if I did leave you one day?’

  ‘Erin, there’s a lot you still have to learn.’

  She walked past me towards the open doors.

  ‘So teach me,’ I called to her back.

  She turned around to face me.

  ‘Either let me leave,’ I said, ‘or trust me enough to show me it all.’

  She considered for a few seconds before she responded. ‘We are not the only coven.’

  That threw me completely. I had always believed we were alone.

  ‘How many are there?’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘The numbers aren’t important. The important point is that we all have a purpose.’

  ‘And what is ours, sacrificing criminals who think they got away?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘But there’s more?’

  Victoria gave a small nod. ‘We’re part of a bigger plan.’

  ‘Do the others know what that is?’

  ‘Some of it.’

  I stood fast, willing her to tell me more.

  She glanced at the open doors checking no-one was coming out before she stepped back right in front of me. ‘We don’t carry out damnations just so we can correct miscarriages of justice. We do it to feed the underworld.’ She nodded down at the floor. ‘The real underworld. It keeps them at bay, stops them from rising up into our world. In return they give us our powers to help carry out the damnations. It’s the economics of give and take. It even applies to the underworld.’

  ‘That’s not all is it?’ I was in full-detective mode now.

  ‘No, that isn’t all,’ she said. ‘I wonder how much I can trust you?’ She seemed to be weighing this up before sighing and taking the plunge.

  ‘Some of the other covens in the past had looked to do separate deals with the dark spirits. Dangerous deals which could have done real damage in this world. None of the current girls in my Coven were around back then.’

  ‘Are these other “bad” covens still around?’

  ‘I thought we had dismantled them, but…’

  ‘…but the girl I saw watching us?’

  Victoria nodded.

  ‘Do you know who she is?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘You think she is from another coven?’

  ‘If she can do the things you saw, then she must be. But I already checked with the existing covens I know, and none of them know anything about her.’

  ‘Ah Victoria,’ a voice said from the open doorway. It was her husband Robert.

  She broke into her best fake smile and turned around to face him. ‘Hello sweetheart. Erin was just telling me the Bradleys were here. Give me one minute and I’ll be straight in.’

  Robert nodded and disappeared and she turned back to face me

  ‘I’m trusting you, Erin,’ she said. ‘Don’t let me down.’ Then as she turned to go she added. ‘Frankie’s readings can only tell you what someone feels. They don’t give you any detail, so she can’t pursue Norris like that. How do you propose we gather evidence against him?’

  I looked up at her in surprise and she gave me an enigmatic Mona Lisa smile.

  ‘I would want Jessie to mirror him,’ I said. ‘Right now I need to know what he’s saying and who he’s saying it to. There’s a chance he’s still talking to the people responsible for killing Lloyd and Angel. I can’t bug him, I don’t have a warrant, and I won’t get one.’

  Mirroring someone was Jessie’s speciality. Sure, we could all communicate with Jessie through our compact mirrors, but she could be summoned up to listen and watch anyone in front of any mirror.

  ‘That would be tricky,’ Victoria said. ‘You would have to direct Jessie to the correct mirror. How would you do that? Wander into Norris’ house, then call Jessie up through all his mirrors and hope he says something incriminating in front of one of them?’

  My head dropped. She was right. I wasn’t even going to get another chance to speak with Norris up close again.

  She stepped back towards me and gently lifted my chin so I was looking at her.

  ‘Think of a way, and Jessie will help you.’

  And with that Victoria Kirkland, leader of The Coven swept back into her party, and her other life.

  29

  WAYNE WAS FINGERING the slats open when the black BMW’s headlights shone across the window as it drew up outside.

  ‘He’s here,’ he said, letting the blind flip back into shape.

  The kid was sitting at the small kitchen table.

  The kitchen cabinet. Ready for war.

  Wayne opened the front door for the Old Man. He came in with his driver-come-bodyguard, Jason Hyde. Big guy, ex bouncer. Been in jail for assault. He acted like he didn’t know anyone in the room except for the Old Man he was paid to protect.

  Yet there was a time, not all that long ago, when they’d been out drinking together. Commiserating about the might have beens. Commiserating over Mark.

  ‘I’m a marked man now,’ the Old Man had said back then. ‘They’re coming after me. This is the last time I can see you for a while.’

  Wayne was very vocal in that meeting, smashing his fist so hard on the table everyone thought it had broken. ‘POLITICS DOESN’T WORK!’ he had screamed.

  The Old Man had seen the emotion in his eyes.

  The Old Man had looked defeated. ‘Our time will come,’ he had said, and for the first and only time he had sounded less than convincing.

  Back then.

  Now, he was a giant. Now, he was the business, appearing on TV supporting the everyday man during these difficult economic climes.

  The everyday man of the people.

  I can tell you what’s wrong. Let me work with you on the cure.

  On National TV being grilled in front of a live studio audience.

  But Mr Norris, are you accepting the NID is a terrorist organisation and do you support it?

  No I do not. I’ve said it time and time again. I lead the One Identity Party…

  But five years ago during the London bombing campaign you famously wouldn’t condone-

  James, the question you should be asking is not what I call them, nor what you call them. You need to consider what is driving these people to carry out such desperate acts.

  But do you condone these murders?

  Don’t be so insulting. How dare you. I’m a politician. I’m a peaceful man.

  Certain papers have linke
d you with the NID.

  That’s the Government controlled press who are scared at my growing support.

  They say you’re a racist-

  Again, with the labels. It’s an easy card to play, but factually incorrect. I don’t care whether someone is black, white, Jewish whatever. I just care about this country and its citizens. What I am against is taking people from outside the country, housing them, feeding them, giving them jobs at the expense of our own citizens. I consider this my country. And as the saying goes. Family comes first.

  *Cue rapturous applause*.

  ‘Are you coming through?’ Wayne said, standing in the open doorway. ‘He’s in here.’

  The Old Man looked at him and the kid. ‘You’re both wearing masks?’

  ‘We always do when we’re on a job like this,’ Wayne said.

  ‘Not my style,’ the Old man said.

  It was hot in the room. The Old Man turned to Jason next to him. He took off his jacket. He kept his leather gloves on, nodded, and followed Wayne through into the small box room.

  Duke Best was tied to a chair in the centre. His face was covered in blood from the beatings. He looked up at the Old Man through swollen eyes and smiled weakly.

  ‘I’ve been expecting you,’ he whispered through broken teeth.

  The Old Man shut the door behind him, and came up close to Duke. ‘Did these gentlemen do this to you?’ he said looking up at Wayne.

  Duke said nothing, just watched him. Maybe he was just accepting the inevitable.

  ‘Wasn’t that long ago that you were shouting off in the street,’ the Old Man continued. ‘Said you were going to bring me down, that you had people who were going to talk. Was that true?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Duke said. He winced with the effort it took to talk.