Neil White - Beyond Evil

It was the usual scene. Two rows of wooden benches, like church pews, facing towards the high bench occupied by the Magistrates, the backdrop a high velvet curtain, the royal coat of arms hanging in front of it, the lion and the unicorn. The prosecutor was ready in his seat, the white file covers piled up on the desk in front of him, but it was the person he was talking to that made Charlie back away.

It was one of the local detectives. He was standing over the prosecutor, talking. It wasn’t unusual for the police to attend the court hearings. Sometimes they had updates to pass on, and sometimes they just wanted to see the prosecutor put up a fight. This might be different though. They might be waiting for him.

‘Are you Charlie Barker?’

He started. When he looked round, there was a man in his early twenties, scowling, holding some papers in his hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ Charlie mumbled, backing away. ‘I just need some fresh air.’

Charlie bolted outside, banging through the entrance door, and made it to the street before he threw up. It was booze and nerves and tiredness, but that didn’t make him feel any better as he heaved to the cheers of the crowd behind him.

Once he had finished, he propped his head on his arm and leant against the wall. His forehead was clammy, and for as long as he didn’t look up, he could pretend that no one had seen him. There was a hand on his shoulder. He looked round, bleary-eyed. It was Donia.

‘Are you all right?’ she said.

Charlie nodded. ‘Just a bug, I’m sorry.’

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for it and checked the screen. It was the office.

‘Linda?’ he said.

‘Have you seen Amelia?’ Linda said. ‘She hasn’t come in and she’s got an appointment.’ Her voice turned into a whisper as she said, ‘He’s sitting opposite me and he’s stinking the place out.’

Charlie took some deep breaths. He didn’t need this. Linda kept a can of air freshener under her desk for clients like that. ‘Have you called her?’

‘Yes, landline and mobile. And one of her friends called. She didn’t make their dinner date last night.’

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. ‘Okay, I’ll go round when I’ve finished here.’

‘And what do I tell her client?’

‘Just tell him to come back another time,’ he said, and then hung up.

Charlie leant back against the wall and enjoyed the feel of the cold brick against his head. Cold sweat prickled his forehead again, before he felt another surge in his guts, and there were more cheers as he retched once more against the brick wall of the courthouse.

Chapter Twenty-Two

John squinted as the bright morning sunshine streamed in.

The night had become raucous, with too much home brew, too much cannabis. Laughter, drinking, some people naked, as if it was the best party they had ever been to, Henry moving from person to person, asking for promises of loyalty. They had all given it, even Dawn.

He collapsed back onto the bed, sucking in air to calm the nauseous roll of his stomach. Gemma’s body was warm next to him. She mumbled and moved, her arm going over his chest as she shuffled closer, her head against his body. He smiled and ran one hand over her hair and then along her back, her skin soft, just the sharp ridges of her spine disrupting the smooth feel of her body. His mind went back to the night before, but it came back to him in flashes. Gemma on him, passionate, her shouts of pleasure, uninhibited and joyful. And there were other people with them, their hands on him, on Gemma.

He closed his eyes. It had got too wild. Gemma didn’t move as he climbed out of bed. He got to his feet, groaning, and then stumbled his way to the bathroom. He sat on the toilet for a while, wondering what lay ahead for the rest of the day. Henry had said that things were happening now, that the day ahead would be important.

There were footsteps on the landing. John coughed to let whoever who it was know that he was in there. There was no door on the bathroom. Henry didn’t like doors. Whoever was on the landing was walking softly, sounding like they were barefoot.

He froze when he heard a voice say, ‘John?’ It was Henry.

John flushed the toilet and scrambled to his feet, before stumbling onto the landing.

‘Morning Henry,’ he said, trying hard for normality. ‘The home brew came back and bit me.’

Henry grinned. ‘It can rot you from the inside if you don’t keep an eye on it.’

‘Were you looking for me?’

‘I was. Come with me, for a walk. You look like you need some fresh air,’ and he headed down the stairs and out of the main door, the one that opened onto the field, the Seven Sisters in view.

John ran to get some clothes. He paused to gaze down at Gemma, and he felt a moment of longing, a need to be with her again, but he looked away. Henry was waiting for him.

When John joined him outside, Henry was sitting on the stone slab of the Seven Sisters.

‘What do you think when you look at the stones?’ Henry said.

John placed his hand on one. It was cold, just stone, but he remembered Dawn’s description. ‘It’s a legacy, something for people to remember us by.’

Henry nodded and smiled. ‘We’ll need a legacy, because we are nearly ready,’ he said. ‘We just need people to help us with our mission, and only those people will know about it.’

‘What mission is that?’

‘The fulfilment of our plans,’ Henry said. ‘We’ve had them in place for a while, but it is about picking the right moment, and the right people. You are one of those people. We need you.’

‘But I can’t agree to something I don’t know about.’

‘You trust me?’

John nodded. ‘Of course I do, Henry.’

‘So trust me on this.’

‘And if I change my mind when I know the details?’

Henry glanced towards the rest of the stones. ‘We find someone else.’

John rubbed his eyes, still tired, as he thought about what Henry was saying. ‘Why me?’ he said eventually.

‘Because no one will know you. That’s important. How long have you been with us? Three weeks?’

John nodded.

‘That’s why we kept you up here,’ Henry said. ‘You got to know the group, and I got to know you, but also so no one would know you were with us, because the police watch us, I know that. They won’t know you though. You are our secret weapon.’

John nodded slowly, taking in what Henry was saying. ‘So what are your plans?’

Henry grinned. ‘We are going to strike at the heart of it all.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Soldiers, John, that’s what we are. You too. But you have to agree, because that is how we are, that we live our lives by consent. If you want me to tell you, there is no backing out. Do you understand that?’

John nodded. ‘Tell me.’

Henry smiled paternally and stepped closer to John. ‘We have explosives,’ Henry said in a whisper. ‘Bad stuff. Ammonium nitrate. But we are at a farm. No one would suspect. It’s fertiliser.’ Henry began to laugh. ‘Genius, isn’t it? The detonators are with a different group. Just phones and wires, nothing sinister on their own.’

John’s mind flashed back to the white crystals in the metal drum. ‘Is it legal?’

‘It’s lawful rebellion, John, they can’t punish us for that.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘The Magna Carta. You’ve heard of it? It’s our country’s constitution and Parliament cannot take it away. If we are being ruled unjustly, we can fight back, and that starts with us not obeying their laws, because the Magna Carta says that we can.’

‘But they can just lock us up, can’t they?’

‘They can’t unless we are doing something contrary to the law of the land, and if the Magna Carta allows us to conduct lawful rebellion, how can it be unlawful?’