Strike Me Dead

by Bob Goodwin

  ‘Sorry, I am unable to meet with you at Starbucks. I am with Father. We are at the old place and I have Graham Lawson.’

  There was a moment’s silence before Claymore spoke.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere!’

  James paused and looked at his phone. ‘Hmmm ... He has hung up on me.’

  ‘Well?’ asked Morgan in an almost clear voice. James raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I believe he is on the way, Father. He seemed a little put out.’ James slipped the phone back into his jeans. ‘But never mind that. There is one request I have of you.’

  Morgan gave a questioning ‘Huh?’

  ‘I will trolley you up the hill when the time comes and you can witness the evil leave Lawson’s body, but you must ask the Lord one more time if he should die.’ His father’s face became crimson and he was tightening up all over again. ‘Now, don’t go doing that. Just listen to me.’ James remained standing and looked down at his father as he spoke clearly and firmly. ‘Yes, I know God revealed him to you, and I know more than anything you want his head, but it also seems to me that God may have also had a hand in sparing him from you. Perhaps there was more going on at the time than you were aware. We all know the Lord works in mysterious ways. All I ask is that you seek confirmation tonight. The storm will be upon us soon enough.’ His father gestured to the roof and then to himself. ‘Of course,’ continued James, ‘you would be unable, under normal circumstances, to climb up on this roof carrying the crucifix with you. This is why I have secured footings for you and I have already mounted the crucifix on the roof. I can help you up the ladder then if you can haul yourself, with the help of God, to the top, Lawson will go to Salvation. That I promise you.’

  James moved casually to the kitchen bench and plugged in the electric kettle. It began to crackle and hum. ‘I think it’s best you stay clothed for protection and warmth. Your shoes will help with the climb too.’

  ‘Nah ... noo,’ blurted his father.

  ‘Really? You want to be naked?’

  Morgan had a distorted smile. He gave a jerky nod of his head.

  Chapter 57

  Who’s Playing Games?

  Jason Hunter, Lisa and Daniel emerged from the bushland at the rear of unoccupied house at 101 Rifle Range Road. The rain was now steady and the trio were tired, scratched and wet. They moved around the house and walked towards the Honda Accord. Jason glanced at his car.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Hanging, by its strap, from the side rear- view mirror was a gold-coloured purse.

  ‘Lisa, Daniel, check the area,’ instructed Jason. He removed his backpack as he approached the car. Squatting near the side mirror, he looked at the purse. ‘Fuck,’ he shouted under his breath. With a plastic bag removed from his pack, he scooped up the purse without touching it then secured the plastic seal.

  ‘Can’t see anyone, boss,’ Daniel said.

  ‘There are footprints over here,’ called Lisa. She was a few metres behind the car. Jason joined her. ‘They will wash away soon, but they are definitely new. Likely to be a sports shoe.’ She looked at the plastic bag in Jason’s hand. ‘That Jessica’s?’

  ‘Probably, it definitely fits the description. These footprints are a size nine or ten. Champion is bigger than that. I’m calling the police,’ said Jason. He started making the call. ‘We still have two other addresses to check, and I hate to say this but we can’t rule out this one either, at least not yet. But now we do have compelling evidence. They can’t ignore us now and we can’t do this alone...’

  Chapter 58

  Sanctioned by God

  It had taken the best part of ten minutes to get Morgan Finn up the ladder. James had lifted, supported and guided his trembling father to the top. Now he was on his own. The horizontal pieces of timber that James had bolted and screwed to the roof served like a second ladder and seemed to be doing their job as Morgan inched his way forward through the heavy rain. As James stood watching his father, Timmy clad in raincoat and rain hat, joined him and both watched the struggles of Morgan.

  ‘Thank you for staying out of sight. So far all is going to plan,’ said James.

  ‘I heard everything through the bedroom door. You are truly the master of manipulation.’ The two watched the slow progress of Morgan. ‘Really, he is a stupid man,’ continued Timmy.

  ‘No, he is definitely not stupid. He is obsessively driven by his beliefs.’

  ‘The man is naked and on a tin roof in the middle of a thunderstorm. I’m sorry, but to me it does sound stupid.’

  James turned his head slowly and looked at Timmy who was quite engrossed with the forward struggle on the roof. ‘For an old cripple, he’s making good headway.’

  ‘He is only fifty-seven.’ James was still staring at Timmy.

  ‘I tell you the guy looks like he’s a hundred! Here we go, the moment of truth is about to arrive.’

  James pushed his wet hair aside and looked up at his father. Morgan had reached the top of the roof. He pushed himself a little further and could straddle the peak. At this point he looked back to his son, tilted his head and made a pointing gesture to the two men.

  ‘Now he’s wondering who the hell you are. Maybe you should have stayed inside,’ said James.

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t think he’s about to come down and shake my hand, is he?’

  ‘This will work now, right?’

  ‘Yes. Come on old man grab that damn cross,’ said a smiling Timmy. He got another quick, unhappy look from his companion. Through the rain and amid the claps of thunder, James made eye contact with his father. He kissed three fingers and threw his father the kiss. Morgan gave the best smile he could muster as his frail body trembled in the cold. He reached out and grabbed the crucifix with both hands. His hands immediately locked onto the metal shaft as electricity traveled through his hands, arms, chest and shoulders. Morgan was used to spasms but never like this. His muscles were beyond any form of voluntary control.

  ‘Yes!’ laughed Timmy clapping his hands together. ‘Perfect. I told you. He’ll be there for a while now.’

  ‘Hmm ... We should go back inside. Claymore will be here any moment,’ said James.

  * * *

  Back inside, James towelled himself off while Timmy double- checked his handiwork. On the floor to one side of the fireplace was a transformer connected to a circuit board with a blue lead trailing up the wall and out the window. The other end of the connection was plugged into the wall and switched on. Timmy spent a moment fiddling with the underside of the circuit board.

  ‘All good here,’ he declared. James’s phone rang. He let his towel drop to the floor and checked the phone’s screen.

  ‘It’s Raelene. Right on time too. If she follows my instructions, she should now call the cops. With her and Hunter onto it, we should have plenty of company soon enough. You’ll need to be keeping an eye out. You planted the gold purse, right? And you sure everything is clean?’

  ‘You can rely on me. No prints anywhere. And yeah, they will have found the purse by now,’ said Timmy. ‘And you can’t leave that towel there. Put it in our plastic bag with our other bits and pieces.’ James grimaced slightly and picked up the towel. Timmy went to the front window and stood on watch.

  It took just a further two minutes before Claymore Finn arrived. Timmy signalled to James then slipped back into the bedroom.

  Claymore left his Kombi van at the bottom of the driveway and walked quickly up to the house getting completely drenched by the rain. James opened the door as he approached. The two brothers stood face to face. They were near clones of each other. Same height, same hair and same physique. The only real difference was that Claymore’s facial features were sharper and squarer, much like his father’s. Claymore took one step into the house then he let fly.

  ‘What are you doing? This is just madness, James. I think you’ve really lost the plot this time.’ He marched, dripping wet, through the house. ‘Where is Father? And what hav
e you done, cutting down all the trees? He checked the lounge area. As he hurried past James, he was grabbed on the arm.

  ‘Stop your ranting for a minute and tell me this,’ said James. ‘Is a house in a forest, or a house in a clearing more likely to be struck by lightning?’

  ‘What are you raving about? Are you taking your meds?’

  ‘Answer me,’ insisted James, still holding his brother’s arm.

  ‘The house in the clearing, of course. What’s the point?’

  ‘Then is it not wrong, even blasphemous, to ask God to strike you down when you are surrounded by lightning rods?’

  ‘Lightning rods?’

  ‘Trees, Claymore. Trees are virtual lightning rods. You are testing God, not seeking permission. Blasphemy is any act that insults, shows contempt or has lack of reverence for God. You nearly had me convinced of the righteousness of the actions you and Father were taking, but it is wrong. I also know that Father has been murdering innocent people for many years. I suspected this for a while but now I have the proof.’

  ‘Stop it James. You have no idea what you are talking about. There is no murder. There is only Salvation. I knew it was a mistake to get you on board. Unfortunately, Father insisted otherwise. Why did I even bother to train you in the first place? So where is Father? Where is Lawson?’ demanded Claymore. James tilted his head back slightly and looked at the ceiling.

  ‘No. Surely you didn’t? Where is he really? Is he okay.’

  ‘He is seeking approval from God,’ replied James calmly. His brother was momentarily lost for words.

  ‘Are you completely insane?’

  A bolt of lightning lit up the room, followed a second later by a splitting crack of thunder. Claymore ran to the back door and outside into the storm. He looked up through the pouring rain and could see the figure of a thin, naked man clutching a crucifix.

  ‘Father, come on down,’ he screamed. Not waiting for a reply, he went up the ladder two rungs at a time. The footings on the roof made his job easy. As he reached Morgan, he took the crucifix in one hand while he grabbed his father’s forearm with the other. The volts travelled through his body. The muscles in his arms instantly cramped. His jaw clenched. Claymore’s legs pushed down, dislodging one of the supports.

  Once again outside, James now looked up at his father and brother both stuck on the roof being slowly and painfully electrocuted.

  ‘Do you think it’s worse than a taser?’ It was Timmy.

  ‘Perhaps. It is a slow torture,’ shouted James through the rain and wind.

  ‘It can be over quickly. You know I can make that happen.’

  ‘I know. Let’s leave it with God and get back inside.’

  Chapter 59

  Expected Visitors

  The drain pipes that ran below the entrance to the Finn property could no longer cope with the volume of water. The creek poured across the gravel driveway and continued to rise. Entry was further impeded by the Kombi van parked just over the creek. A series of vehicles, some with blue lights flashing, pulled up along Grasslands Road. There were squad cars and wagons, a large police rescue van, an armoured police vehicle and a couple of unmarked vehicles, including Jason Hunter’s Honda.

  Within a moment of their arrival, armed officers were out and about with torches. What daylight remained the storm had turned to night. Spotlights from vehicles sent beams of light through the pouring rain.

  The armoured vehicle backed up a little then charged over the flooded driveway with ease. It nosed further forward and pushed the Kombi van away from the entrance, leaving it lurching over on an angle.

  * * *

  ‘We have company,’ shouted Timmy. ‘Like the whole police department. Let’s go!’

  ‘Okay. Unfortunately, we will have to go to Plan B. I’m ready,’ said James.

  Timmy darted over to his modified transformer and kneeled on the floor. He twisted the silver knob to crank up the current to maximum. The metal piece came off in his fingers.

  ‘Uh oh!’

  ‘What’s uh oh mean?’ said James, standing there with a plastic bag over his shoulder. Timmy showed him the metal knob.

  ‘It just broke off in my hand. The current is still running but I can’t adjust it. No time to fix this. Sorry, but we just have to leave.’ He looked up. It was a strange look. Sort of a bit sorry about that, sort of a little well maybe I knew this was coming.

  ‘For the want of a horseshoe nail...’ said James. He turned slightly away from Timmy, let the plastic bag fall and lifted his shirt. Tucked into his shorts was a Bowie knife with an engraved crucifix near the hilt. The handle was wrapped in cling wrap. ‘It’s Plan C now, Timmy. And really, it’s always has been.’ He turned back to his kneeling companion and in one quick motion, plunged the knife full length into Timmy’s neck. Blood spurted from the severed carotid artery, and gurgled and spluttered from his mouth. A shocked Timmy grabbed his throat with both hands and fell sideways with the knife protruding from his neck. Avoiding the expanding pool of blood, James squatted and peeled off the cling wrap, which he stuffed into his pocket.

  ‘Return to the Lord my friend. Really, it was never going to work out anyway. You and me. You can’t just go killing health professionals and police officers because of a ridiculous paranoid delusion. I know that and God knows that. Besides, I am about to embark on a wonderful relationship with your sister and having you around may just jeopardise and complicate that. So sorry. If only you’d stayed on your medication in the first place, eh?’

  In the kitchen, using a tea towel, James quickly but carefully grabbed a large glass bottle with the letters “H2SO4” marked on the front. His ex-companion had now lapsed into unconsciousness both from blood loss and the lack of oxygenated blood flow to his brain. He removed the glass stopper and put it in his pocket then poured a good portion of the liquid over Timmy’s face. The flesh bubbled and hissed. Fumes rose into the air. James tossed the bottle towards the transformer and power outlet where it smashed.

  He grabbed the plastic bag once more. ‘And to top it off, you now leave me hanging out to dry because you failed to check and double-check. Maybe that was your plan all along, but it matters little now.’ He bolted out the back door. Beams of light were moving around both sides of the house. He ran behind the pile of chopped branches, darted quickly to one side then jumped down the slippery slope towards the creek. As he made the jump, he turned his head back. A lightning bolt struck the roof and a mammoth explosion seemed to consume the whole house. For the smallest fraction of a second, he thought he saw his father and brother being disintegrated within God’s light. He slid down the bank and into the rapidly flowing creek, quickly being washed further and further away from the old Finn house.

  Chapter 60

  Discovery

  Thirty minutes had passed and while the rain continued, the worst of the storm was over. The initial urgency and flurry of police activity had reduced, but blue lights continued flashing and more vehicles had arrived, including two ambulances. The house and a five-metre perimeter had been marked out as a crime scene. Photographers sheltered by police holding umbrellas were taking pictures of body parts strewn about the area. Jason Hunter was arguing with Detective Riley about being allowed inside the house.

  ‘You’re not a fucking cop anymore, Hunter. You can’t go in.’

  ‘There is a body in there, right?’

  ‘That there is. Fit-looking guy too. Bald. Stabbed in the throat. His face eaten away by acid. Very nasty. Maybe twenty to twenty-five. Hard to be sure. The place looks like a bomb hit it. Half the roof has fallen in.’

  ‘Definitely no Jessica Chang?

  ‘You were wrong. She’s not here.’

  ‘What about Champion?

  ‘Could be one of the two killed by the lightning. Too early to be sure. He is one crazy son of a bitch that’s for certain.’

  ‘You know that someone wanted us here don’t you? This is all part of someone’s
script. None of this has anything to do with good police or detective work,’ said Hunter.

  ‘Hey, we get lots of leads. Some good, some bad. Good police work is following up on leads and tip-offs. Sure, some seriously weird shit was going on here. Maybe a cult thing, maybe a sex thing. A naked guy on a roof. Who knows? But there’s nothing here to suggest it’s connected with Jessica Chang. You got a gold purse. So what, might be hers might not. Yeah, someone is playing stupid games with you, Hunter. And I hate to say it, but the girl is already dead, you know it and I know it.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ He directed his torch up the hill and thought back to his first visit, remembering the crows being disturbed by something near the lantana. ‘I need two of your guys, with torches, to come with me,’ he said with some urgency.

  ‘Fuck off. It’s not happening.’

  ‘Just ten minutes that’s all I ask. Then I’ m gone. Please, just ten fucking minutes, Riley, and that’s it!’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘One hundred percent, promise.’

  ‘You will be outta my face?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Hmm...’ Riley considered the matter then called out, ‘Conrad, Mitchell! You guys go with Hunter. Ten minutes max, then tell him to fuck off. And Mitchell,’ added Riley pointing his finger at the female officer. ‘Don’t take any shit from this bastard.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ she nodded.

  Hunter gave them both a wave.

  ‘This way.’ The group started up the hill. It was a more awkward climb than it might have been thanks to the water- soaked ground and continuing rain. The torchlights together with headlights from vehicles and various spotlights helped shed a little light on their climb. The trio eventually swung around the thick outgrowth of lantana and came to a standstill.

  ‘Holy shit, look at this, this has to be the place,’ shouted Hunter. He ran to the first container, the road base rocks crunching under his boots. He read the word, Damnation, on the first metal box. With the butt of his torch, he banged on the door. ‘Hello! Hello! Anybody there? This is the police.’ Mitchell was quickly at his side. She gave him a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders. A shout came back, quickly followed by a loud metal-on-metal banging sound. Hunter took both levers, lifted, pulled and heaved one of the double doors open. Conrad had a nervous hand on his gun while Mitchell and Hunter held their torches.