Neil White - Beyond Evil

Sheldon sat back down on the windowsill, shaking his head.

‘Chief Inspector Dixon,’ Sheldon said. ‘She has looked worried the last couple of days. Is that why? She let you onto her patch and you’ve caused mayhem?’

Horne shook his head. ‘Dixon doesn’t know about Abbott.’ He exhaled noisily. ‘You might as well know. Dixon couldn’t know about Abbott.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because Dixon’s daughter is with the group.’

Sheldon paled. He remembered how Dixon acted when he brought Lucy into the station, when everyone thought she was Billy’s housekeeper.

‘It was Dixon who arranged for Lucy to be seen with Ted Kenyon,’ Sheldon said, trying to work it out through his head. Now, it seemed clearer. ‘It was done to stop him campaigning and getting too close to the truth. She was protecting her daughter.’

‘That’s how we read it now,’ Horne said, ‘but we hadn’t known there was any connection with Billy Privett.’

Sheldon went to the door. Before he got there, he turned round and said, ‘What’s the name of Dixon’s daughter?’

‘Gemma,’ Horne said. ‘Gemma Dixon.’

Chapter Fifty-Five

Henry handed the knife to Gemma, his eyes wide with excitement.

Dawn was screaming, long lung-bursting shouts of fear, but Henry showed no reaction. They were a long way from anyone who might hear them.

John’s heart felt like fast finger taps. Dawn was thrashing in front of him, and he knew he should intervene, but he was excited by it. He tried to shake it away, but it was there, seeing Gemma enjoying it so much. Gemma looked at him and gestured with a cock of her head that he should join her. He looked around the group. Everyone was looking at him, expectant, and so he stepped forward, stood alongside Gemma.

She smiled as he got next to her. He glanced over at Henry, who smiled almost paternally. Arni glowered, the intensity in his eyes telling John that he was turned on by this.

He looked down at Gemma’s hand, at her slim fingers around the handle of the knife. The blade seemed to blink with reflected light. He could feel the presence of everyone else. The breaths they were holding, the anticipation. He looked up once more at Henry, who nodded. It was time.

All John heard were the sounds of Dawn’s struggles. Her heels and elbows on the stone, the bang of her head, skin catching on the rock. Panicked cries.

Gemma’s hand moved forward until the tip of the knife rested against Dawn’s skin, just pressing inwards, making a dimple, just under the ribs. Dawn winced.

Henry held up his hands, and everyone turned to him.

‘No battles are won without spilling blood,’ he said, his voice low. ‘It’s been the same throughout history; progress has cost lives. And so without the shedding of blood, we cannot move ourselves forward. We are free men and free women.’

Gemma grinned and whispered, ‘As it is.’ Then she pushed with her hand.

Dawn bucked as the blade disappeared into her side, blood rushing onto the knife. It went in so easily, John thought. Dawn screamed again, except this time it was the sharp scream of pain. John shuddered and he felt himself go light-headed. The field swam in front of him. He had to hold on, he knew that. He was the only one reacting. This had happened before. There was nothing new. And they were watching him. This was his first real test.

He looked down and watched as Gemma withdrew the knife. Blood ran quickly from the wound down to the stone, gushing out in spurts as Dawn’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Her eyelids flickered. She was in shock.

Gemma turned to John and held the dagger to him. ‘Now you,’ she whispered.

John looked around the group. Everyone was smiling.

‘Don’t be uncertain,’ Gemma whispered to him. ‘This is the way. We all take a turn, so that we have all banished her.’

John swallowed and felt his mouth go dry. He looked at the hole in the ground, waiting for her, a large stone lying flat alongside.

Gemma followed his gaze and smiled. ‘We bury her, in the stone circle. A stone for her, just like the rest.’

A headstone, John thought.

Gemma’s hand went around his. Her fingers felt warm, and he remembered how they had been on his body. He could feel her breath on his cheeks, the soft brush of her hair against his neck.

The knife was placed into his hand and the blade pushed against Dawn’s skin. She was saying something, and he paused as he listened to hear her words.

‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,’ Dawn said, pausing to lick her lips. ‘He makes me lie down in green pastures.’

Gemma whispered to him that he should push, smiling, her teeth on her lip, biting, coy. Her hand went to his neck, her fingers caressing softly, and she was nodding at him.

He didn’t know how it started, but he felt his hand move forward, and when he looked down, the blade was disappearing into Dawn, just as it had done when Gemma had done it. Dawn was shaking now, her eyes rolling, and he just kept on pushing until he felt the handle of the knife rest against her skin.

He looked at Gemma. She was smiling, her eyes showing her arousal.

Dawn groaned when he pulled out the knife, her voice already getting weaker.

The person next to him, Jennifer, took the knife from him and moved to take her position next to Dawn. The blade went in quicker this time, as if they had all become impatient, and John watched as the knife moved down the line.

Dawn stopped moving after the fifth person, when the blade had found its way between two ribs and into her chest. Her body suddenly became flaccid, as if they had watched her life leave her, but still the knife went down the line, so that everyone had their turn, the ceremonial stab.

Gemma turned to John and kissed him, her lips urgent, and John realised that his body was already responding, knowing that Gemma was aroused by the display. She pulled away.

‘You’re truly one of us now,’ she said. He just smiled and nodded. There was no turning back.

Chapter Fifty-Six

‘We’ve got to do something,’ Ted hissed at Charlie, who pulled out his phone. He had a message. He shielded it with his back to hide the glow from the screen.

‘It’s from Sheldon,’ Charlie said. He read it and nodded to himself.

‘What is it?’ Ted said.

‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ he said, almost to himself. When Ted frowned, Charlie said, ‘It’s about John Abbott. The police paid our bill to represent him, because Abbott works for the police.’

‘What do you mean?’

Charlie showed Ted the message. It just said, Abbott is undercover. Infiltrated group .

‘Undercover?’ Ted whispered, surprised.

‘It looks like Amelia represented a fake defendant to attract the attention of Henry Mason.’

Ted’s eyes widened, visible in the moonlight. ‘Which is why Amelia called the police after Billy made the video. She was worried about Abbott, because she knew that Henry Mason wasn’t just some political activist.’

‘He was a murderer,’ Charlie said, nodding.

Charlie sent a message back to Sheldon to let him know that people were in danger, and that they were at an old cottage on Jackson Heights. Once he clicked send , he looked at Ted and said, ‘We have to wait for the police. There’s too many of them. They’ll turn on Donia if they catch us.’

‘We can’t just sit here and watch someone die,’ Ted said, and started to climb out of the ditch.

Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back. ‘It’s too late to save whoever that is,’ he said, desperation creeping into his voice. ‘Think of Donia.’

Ted shrugged him off but didn’t say anything.