“I gather this is all part of the grand plan you were regaling me with to make me suffer. You need to do better.”
“Of course I don’t,” Tommy said gleefully. “The intention behind it has already been set in motion. Did you really think that you could do all the things you’ve done and not be punished?”
“Isn’t that what Death Row’s for?”
“Theoretically, yes. But for some people, it’s just not enough. What, you thought you could be put to death and the universe would balance itself out? There is no return to balance after your actions. This however, may come close. You just need a little more of a push to make you start to see.”
“See what?”
Tommy laughed. “You’ll see.”
Obadiah clenched the phone tighter in his hand. “When I find you…”
“You’ll what? I’m already dead, dumb arse. You’re not paying attention, and it’s getting a little irritating. None of this is my doing, nor anyone else’s…it’s yours. It’s all yours.”
“I didn’t touch her.”
Tommy tutted again. “Oh Obi, for someone with an I.Q as high as yours, your fuckin’ thick mate. But don’t worry, you don’t have long to wait. Once Ellie is taken care of…”
“You won’t get anywhere near her,” Obadiah interrupted.
“Oh, I believe you. I just want you to know it won’t make any difference. There’s nowhere you can go where you won’t be found. You can’t hide from yourself, Tally Man.”
Obadiah placed the phone back in its cradle, ending the conversation without a reply. As he moved back towards Ellie, Mark intercepted him.
“What the fuck is going on.”
He knelt before Ellie, gently stroking her hair. She stirred at his touch and mumbled something incomprehensible but didn’t wake. He paused for a moment, staring at her intently as though trying to memorise every aspect of her face.
“I have to keep her safe,” Obadiah said softly under his breath. Sighing, Mark shook his head. “Obi, I don’t understand. Who the fuck was that? You come in here in the middle of the night with your daughter, tell me Eva’s dead, give me no explanation as to what’s going on…Eva was right, you are getting worse. Whatever is going on in your head, it’s making you ill, mate. Don’t you see?”
“I see perfectly, but I have to keep her safe,” he repeated, his voice still a whisper. “Safe from who?”
“From me,” Obadiah replied, his tone flat and emotionless. He lifted Ellie gently from the settee and moved towards the stairs, stopping to look at Mark with a silent question about where to take her.
“You can put her in the spare room, top of the stairs on the left.”
Obadiah nodded and began to climb the stairs. He placed Ellie on the blue duvet and covered her with a blanket. She drew her knees up in a fetal position and turned over, pulling Snoopy closer to her breast. He sat down beside her in the darkness, his stomach beginning to heave at the thought of someone hurting her.
He knew they would come, whether it be Tommy or a stranger, someone would come and try to take her. Obadiah would be ready. Whatever the reason was for his being here, it had all begun to spiral apart, something Obadiah now suspected had been the intention all along. He had arrived here a monster but discovered a man hiding in plain sight. Eva and Ellie had loved him, trusted him, cared about him. He had been allowed to feel, for the briefest moment, something he never thought possible; hope. But the man had gone, leaving behind only the monster. A monster forced into being once more.
Damn them for making me care.
Obadiah stood and gently tucked the hair on Ellie’s forehead behind her ear.
“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear before moving out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Mark was stood in the space Obadiah had previously occupied. He turned as Obadiah entered the room. “So, what happens now,” he asked.
“Now, we wait.”
Dr. John Franklin, BS.c. HONS, PH.D. M.A., M.CLIN, PSYCH. A.F.PS.S.I.
Case Number: 01020541/27
Subject: Stark, Obadiah James (a.k.a. The Tally Man) cont.
Victim history continued:
The discovery of Katherine Keld’s body in Ardfert caused outrage across Ireland the likes of which would not been seen until Gerald Barry murdered Manuela Riedo in Galway City in 2007. At the behest of the Gardaí the FBI sent a liaison to assist in the search for Katherine. Alan Dark, a thirty four year old profiler from the Louisiana field office, had been involved in the search for the subject since the murder of Tammy Porto in 1989 and was believed to be the most knowledgeable agent in regards to Obadiah Stark. Following Stark’s arrest in 2003, the offender profile created by Dark was found to have been a fairly accurate description of not only his physical appearance, but also motivation and personal history. This profile however brought Dark a great deal of criticism due to the fact that, whilst precise, it had ultimately not helped in his capture.
Yet regardless of Dark and the Gardaí’s best efforts, the body of 32 year old Wendy Dutton was discovered in Waterford on the South East coast of Ireland in October 1994. Located in one of the oldest quarters of the city known as the Viking Triangle, her body was discovered with the hands bound and her throat cut, once again the wound had been so deep it had almost severed her spinal column. Following this murder, the subject’s pattern abruptly changed, with the only murder in 1995 being that of Ruth Kipling in County Clare.
Excerpt taken from interview with Obadiah Stark (dated 15th April 2010):
“I remembered County Clare from when I was a boy in Ireland, so when I picked her up, I felt slightly sentimental about being back there. Indulgent I grant you, but it seemed almost prophetic. I was initially going to just throw her off the Cliffs of Moher, but then I thought it seemed a bit of a waste. Why be back home and hide my work? I’d gone there to show my immigrant relations just how I had taken control of my own destiny and carve a little niche for myself in the world…no pun intended.”
The subject did not kill again until two years later, when the body of Niamh Kelly was found in March 1997 in Kerry. She has been stabbed in the head 39 times. When questioned, Stark announced that …“Stano stabbed Toni Van Haddocks 38 times, so I figured, why not go for 39.” The reason for the subject’s lengthy periods of time between crimes seemed to indicate that he was becoming cautious, despite the fact the Gardaí had very few leads at this time. The local press were vitriolic in their anger at the apparent slow moving nature of the case and the fact that they appeared to be no closer to identifying and arresting the subject. Though Stark had no regular job during this time period, he was found to have moved around the country, holding positions in various establishments ranging from public houses to voluntary services. These occupations allowed the subject to once again be in a prime position to both identify and meet young women whose deaths could satisfy his desire to kill.
Excerpt taken from interview with Obadiah Stark (dated 15th April 2010):
“I know who and what I am…what I have done defies belief for some and cannot be quantified by others. It isn’t for them to understand why I did the things I did, it’s only for them to accept that there was a reason behind it all. You asked me earlier if I received any sexual gratification from my crimes. Of course I did. Until you have done the things I’ve done, you can only imagine the raw energy you feel from being in control of another’s life. How could you not be turned on by that? But just because it aroused me, doesn’t mean I wanted any reciprocity from them. I managed fine in that department, thank you very much.
“I find women attractive and have had many relationships with women, sexual and otherwise that haven’t ended in their death. I don’t need to sexually dominate and embarrass them to feel like a man, that isn’t true power nor is it a display of greatness…anyone can take whatever they want from a woman. But taking their life, taking the very essence of what makes them who they are…now that’s power without equal.”
‘Doubt, the es
sential preliminary of all improvement and discovery, must accompany the stages of man’s onward progress. The facility of doubting and questioning, without which those of comparison and judgment would be useless, is itself a divine prerogative of the reason.”
Albert Pike
Chapter Nineteen
October 4th
08:15
Fenit (An Fhianait)
County Kerry, Ireland
ALTRUISM and compassion are inexplicably linked to one another in an oddly subjective way. Viewed as part of a larger picture, compassion from someone who had never been altruistic in their life could lend itself to the question of whether the individual was being genuine. On the other hand, continued and sustained altruistic acts without any semblance of understanding as to the reasons behind them and what they mean to the recipient could be seen as motivated by a naive duty to the right thing.
Being altruistic is seen as the defining characteristic of many charities and organisations all over the world ran by people who believe their desires and wants are secondary to others, be it animal or human. To commit an act of kindness knowing that no one will ever know it was your actions that saved them, made them perform better or gave them something they had always wanted is hard. The motivation behind the act can be contentious, even ambiguous in nature, but ultimately they will be motivated by compassion. And it is that compassion that ends up forming the structure upon which altruistic acts are built. This structure must be maintained and cared for as with any structure. For if left alone, it can become weathered and weakened, leading to it becoming less than it was. If this were to occur, what began as a selfless act can soon become motivated purely by a personal motivation, hidden within an act of trying to do the right thing.
* * *
Joe rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, uncertain what had woken him. He hadn’t felt Vicky get out of bed and hadn’t heard her leave, so he put it down to his internal alarm clock.
The oppressive, musky smell of sex still hung in the air. Joe smiled, remembering how Vicky’s enthusiasm had taken him by surprise. His assumption had been her well-educated, buttoned-up demeanor would have inhibited her, despite her flirting with him the other night. On the contrary, she had been extremely adventurous, making their spontaneous night together memorable.
Climbing out of bed, Joe pulled on a t-shirt and some shorts and headed for the kitchen. He flicked the switch on the kettle, spotting the note which stood against the bread bin. Leaning back against the counter, he unfolded it.
Joe, Sorry I had to disappear. Really enjoyed last night. Will see you later. Vick x
The kettle clicked off. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the settee, the note still in his hand. After everything that had happened yesterday, the night had certainly ended better than it had begun. Joe found himself smiling as he realised he could still smell her on him, provoking his body slightly. He only hoped it wouldn’t have too much of an effect on their work relationship. After all, he still had a book to finish and a few mysteries to solve, one of which included The Brethren.
His mind kept drifting back to her expression when he had mentioned them. Her face had momentarily betrayed she had either heard of the group or knew more than she had been willing to share. His gut told him The Brethren were significant.
Draining his cup, Joe placed it on the kitchen bench and headed upstairs to shower and change. He checked his bruised face in the mirror before heading back downstairs. He quickly spread some peanut butter on a slice of toast, locked the front door and made his way to the car. Sitting there eating with the engine idling, Joe considered his options. Last night he had wanted to start searching for anything on the man who had attacked him. This morning he wanted to start an earnest search for information on The Brethren. As he headed off the drive, Joe felt his skin momentarily chill at his suspicion that one investigation would lead into the other.
The drive to work was refreshingly uneventful. Joe belligerently parked his car in the same spot where he had been attacked and heading into the office, nodding knowingly at Paul as he passed by security. He felt a few intrusive gazes in his direction as people around the office noticed his face, their conspiratorial whispers floating through the air as they wondered who had beaten him up and why. He imagined a few of them wished they had been the ones to do it.
Dropping his bag on his chair, he grabbed his second cup of coffee of the morning and headed over to Alison’s desk. He knew she would know something, given that she had a proclivity for knowing something about everything. That was why her entertainment section of the paper was always so up to date; she seemed to always be in the loop for relevant news.
“Good morning gorgeous. How are you this morning?” He asked as he flopped into her chair.
“What do you want, Joe?” she replied with a courteous smile which rapidly disappeared when she saw his face. “Jesus, what happened to you?”
“It happened when I was changing a tire.”
“With what, your face?”
“Cute,” Joe replied. “But sidestepping that for a moment, what do know about The Brethren?”
“The Brethren?” Alison repeated. “You’re usually pursuing something a little more insidious than good-will organizations.”
“Is that what they are? Fighting for truth, justice…that sort of thing?”
“You could say that,” she responded cheerfully. “I think the Stark case was their biggest, certainly in regards to the publicity it got them. I know a lot of the victim’s families really appreciate the support they got from them. They did have an office in Kerry a few years ago,” she replied, moving round to the photocopier behind him. “But now I think they work out of Dublin. They gained a lot of funding from the Government that gave them the opportunity to expand. Bigger offices and all that.”
Joe frowned. “So, why had I never heard of them until a few days ago?”
“Been the victim of injustice recently?” Alison asked sarcastically.
“Aside from you turning down my offer of a date? No…fair point.”
“I know a few people who’ve used them before,” Alison continued. “Spoke really highly of them.”
Joe looked troubled. “I know more about Obadiah Stark than anyone in this place, and I had no idea they existed.”
“Because you know so many people whose lives have been affected by a serial killer?”
“I do at the moment,” Joe said wryly.
Alison turned and smiled at him. “They deal with abuse cases, sex crimes, that sort of thing. They aren’t a legal company, so much as a group of people who offer support to those who feel the legal system didn’t give them what they thought they deserved.”
Joe sighed. “I feel a little out of the loop. All the work I have been doing and this falls out of the blue into my investigation.”
“You’ve actually never told me what it is you’re working on?” Alison said.
“Let’s just say my work on Obadiah for the book has opened up other avenues of investigation I hadn’t considered, which include being beaten up,” Joe acknowledged. “This ‘Brethren’ have only been mentioned a couple of times, but the circumstances and reactions have been…unusual. I guess I’m a little disappointed that I might have missed something important not being aware of them.”
Alison turned away from the photocopier and moved to sit on the edge of her desk. “To be fair, you have only ever been looking at the case from a criminal perspective. Don’t take this the wrong way Joe, but prior to all the work you’ve been doing for your book, you were never really that concerned about altruism, only the truth. You always nail the truth aspect, as always. But sometimes a little justice feels good, too. And besides, if investigating them has resulted in you looking like Rocky Balboa’s punch bag, maybe you’re overstepping an invisible line in the sand.”
“Possibly,” he conceded knowingly. “You respect them?”
“They do noble work,” she replied, touching his arm prote
ctively. “Just be certain about whatever it is you’re considering…”
“I’ll be tactful as always,” Joe interrupted, spinning playfully in her chair before standing up. He walked back to his desk and logged into Google’s Yellow Pages for The Brethren’s number, the advertisement and slogan appearing seconds later alongside a large picture of the CEO of the company identified as Gideon Archard.
When justice fails, we will succeed.
Grabbing a pen from his desk and chewing on it thoughtfully, Joe gazed out at the muted office as he ruminated the pros and cons of being so blatant in his curiosity. It was out of character for him to use such an intrusive tactic during an investigation, but the small part of him that was becoming frustrated with the mysteries stacking up around Obadiah Stark was pulling at his mind.
Retyping the Brethren’s name into Google, he clicked on the first link that took him to their official webpage, noting the grandstanding slogan emblazoned across the top of the screen. Returning to the results page, he accessed on a link further down which took him to some customer reviews. One detailed a sexual abuse case which had been thrown out of court for lack of evidence, with a girl named ‘Haley’, describing how they had helped her secure a law firm whose investigation had subsequently led to the offender receiving eighteen years.
Another covered a hit and run where the driver had received what the victim’s family considered a lenient sentence. The Brethren had apparently lobbied the Government for a review of the case, resulting in the driver being retried and prosecuted. Further stories all detailed success stories of the company and how they were paragons of virtue when it came to justice for the underdog.
Joe flicked through the pages of hits, giving cursory attention to them, finding it hard to believe that a company he had never heard of could have so little negative press about them. There were plenty of testimonials and platitudes regarding their almost philanthropic work in regards to the justice system, but nothing at all suggesting they were anything other than perfect. No company that big and powerful could be that clean, unless they had one hell of a PR representative.
Hellbound: The Tally Man Page 24
