Authors: Matt Drabble
Baine was on the move again, he knew that the amount of noise created at the guest house would attract the wrong sort of attenti
on very quickly and he had not wanted
to be found
in the company of yet another
cooling bloody body
.
After a quick reference stint on the internet with the computer he had found in the landlords lounge, h
e had taken
Lester’s car
finding the keys studiously kept on a hanging rail and labelled “CAR”, he silently thanked Lester for his organisation skills that had speeded up his departure, he
had
searched Lester’s bedroom and found a heavy tweed trilby, he
checked his reflection in the wardrobe door mirror and
pulled the hat down obscuring his features as heavily as possible and combined it with a large winter overcoat. He did no think that he would pass for Lester under any kind of close scrutiny but it should suffice for the means of driving away from the house in the mans car without attracting any unwanted attention. Fortunately the car keys contained a remote control access device enabling him to identify the car first by activating the central locking by pressing the button whilst looking out of the window for the flashing indicator lights as the car unlocked. A dark blue Honda Jazz parked two cars down the small road flashed invitingly, Baine tugged the hat as low as he dared and when he was sure that the coast was clear he slipped out of the door with his book secured in the stolen purple bag under the large winter coat. Before leaving he closed his eyes and thought of Lester, the way he moved and stood, his slow pace and aching legs in the cold damp weather, he attempted to replicate the older mans limping gate, he made it to the car with the minimal amount of curtain twitching.
The cars cabin was spotlessly clean, the car itself was only around four months old and although the new smell was strong Baine could still catch Lester’s faint aroma, he thanked the man again as he found a compact road atlas in the glove compartment along with the sealed owners manual. The map was for checking at a later time, Baine pulled out slowly as everything that he had observed of Lester told him that he
would have
been a careful driver, he eased down the road and away from yet another crime scene.
Around thirty minutes later he sat
parked at the Motorway Services on the M4 at Swansea, the car park was large enough and busy enough for his purposes, he looked for and found a car with a registration plate very similar to Lester’s. He choose a plate that was only a couple of digits different knowing that if he was lucky then the swap would not be noticed for some time at least by the owner, the evening now offered dark cover and he parked next to his target and climbed out. He found a small multi tool in the boot that was part of a well kept kit that Lester had obtained in his well organised manner, he flipped out the small screwdriver attachment and quickly swapped the number plates unobserved, once completed he climbed back into the Honda and took out the road atlas. Marcus had told him to
find
the Cathedral at St Davids, he quickly found the
place, it was located on the far Western Welsh coastline some seventy miles away, Baine checked the fuel gauge finding it almost full he pulled out onto the sodden M4 with his windscreen wipers on full speed and headed towards his destiny.
Superintendent Irving had designed his office with intimidation very much to the forefront of his
mind;
his desk was large and imposing and elevated him high above any of his visitors as he sat imperiously over his domain.
The office was expansive and dark wooden book cases ran floor to ceiling containing impressively sized volumes of law, case studies, psychology and every other possible intellectual subject all
unread and
designed to daunt
and to lend Irving an air of superiority.
He was perched behind his oak expanse, reading glasses positioned strategically on his hawk like nose, he had no use for prescription glasses but wore a plain glass lenses as it added to his desired appearance, and his stylishly expensive widescreen computer monitor was unveiling all of the developments of the shocking case. Forensic reports of the stations murder scene were disappointingly
vague;
the autopsy on the slain officers whilst offering no direct evidence of their perpetrator
,
the style of the wounds and angles
did link the deaths to that of the unfortunately beloved priest that had been nailed in a crucifix pose on the cities popular landmark. They had yet to uncover a single witness to either crime, the CCTV footage had been somehow wiped clean in such a way that the tech boys had not been able to recover a single scene of the carnage, he had the Welsh Assembly, Downing Street, the Chief Constable, the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister all promising every resource that he could need, but the implications of
his
failure were very easy to read. It was perceived that he was a career man through and through, he had never married as taking a female companion would have seemed like cheating on his marriage to the force and it was behind this dedication that his superiors believed his Achilles heel
lurked. He smiled to himself amidst the trappings of his swift progression through the ranks, his true devotion lie beyond this job and this office, his thoughts were interrupting by the intrusive electronic buzz of the office intercom,
“Superintendent, Detective Inspector McCullum for you Sir” filtered through the voice of his secretary
“Send him in Mary”,
Irving
dispensed with his usual tricks and walked around the desk to greet the Inspector, this was a man with whom he shared many things and he had no need for falsehoods here, the time had come for a full disclosure.
McCullum entered the office, he was distracted by his own mission and did not wish to waste his time here, he had a lead on a death in Port Talbot and wanted nothing more than to travel at full speed to investigate any traces of Baine,
and
more importantly,
his
father was waiting.
He was surprised to find
Irving
had risen to greet him, normally the Superintendent would be found upon his throne in a supercilious effort of dominance.
“Brendon, come in, come in”
Irving
greeted him, “It’s good to see you son” he offered a warm handshake confusing McCullum further
“Thank you Sir” McCullum had always felt a friendly manner emanating from his boss but this approach felt strange and inappropriate
Irving
led him to an expensive looking leather sofa residing under the large window, “Sit, sit” he ushered
McCullum sat beside his superior unsure as to the mans motives, as far as he knew Irving wasn’t married and the thought of an approach of a sexual nature did pass through his already crowded mind, he really had no time for any of this,
“Was there something that you wanted Sir, only I’m really quite busy” McCullum knew that he automatically changed his vocabulary and speech patterns depending on the company,
one persona for the dreaded pub and its working class alcohol culture and quite another to suit his highly educated upper class bosses who sat amidst their private clubs sipping cognac and discussing back nines,
it was one of his secret self loathing’s.
“Brendon” Irving laid a manicured hand upon McCullums knee, “We have much in common and the time has now arrived in which to facilitate the transition of our relationship to another level”
McCullum instantly pulled away, it was not the approach that dismayed
him merely the unnecessary wasting of his time,
“Superintendent, I really don’t think that, I mea
n this is rather inappropriate
” he stumbled unsure just how to extricate himself from the time consuming situation, he was surprised to see that
Irving’s
reaction was one of hilarity
“Brendon, Brendon” he laughed, “I can assure that my intentions are completely honourable” he dabbed at his now running eyes with a pristine linen hankerchief
, he rolled up the left sleeve of a luxuriously tailored blue suit revealing a smooth forearm, he passed his right hand over the exposed skin, slowly a small tattoo began to show, McCullum should not have known what the symbol meant but all the same he did, it read 11
th
Order.
“A present from your father Brendon
” he placed a hand on McCullums shoulder, “W
e are one here
child, now tell me,
how do we find the betrayer Baine?”
The bar was small and dank, this was an establishment that required little more than alcohol and a dry spot to drink it, the stench of stale sweat and depression hung heavy on the yellowed walls. An aged stripper cavorted tiredly on a small wooden stage mainly oblivious to the clientele, her face held a fixed gaze that hinted at a chemically induced demeanour, her sagging flesh spilled over a well worn sequined g-string that like its occupier had seen better days.
Gabriel sat transfixed at the end of the bar, his face salivating greedily as he sank in all of the sensory assaults thrown his relatively innocent way, he was downing vodka shots like water and feeling a strange but rather pleasant tightening of his trouser region. Ever since he had inhabited this human form he had struggled against its baser instincts, feeling disgusted at the forms need for consumptions and a terrifying need for sudden bowel excavation that had him vomiting out of both ends. Slowly he had been able to exert control over the emotions that had raged throughout his body, he had begun to realise that not everything on this mortal coil was to be feared and despised, food began to take on an array of fantastic smells and textures, some cooked flesh set his mouth dripping in anticipation and some churned his stomach and emptied
it rapidly
in a runny brown river.
He had also began to notice the female forms that passed him on the street as he moved about during his business, he felt confused over his desires, he had no idea about the power of the female form, he did not know what this body should want to do but he wanted to tear at their flesh with his bare hands and rip their skin with his teeth bathing in the crimson tide. These thoughts had begun to sink through his consciousness making it increasingly hard to function within the parameters of the mission. He had already withdrawn from contact with their human converts as he feared that the temp
tations would become too great
and it was more and more difficult to keep his thoughts from Michael and Raphael who seemed to have a much firmer handle on their behaviour.
He
was starting
to slip away from the Order, spending more and more time on his own fighting to maintain his grip on himself, and yet here he sat transfixed by a sagging woman gyrating with little interest, the liquid that he consumed was buzzing around his brain relaxing his form and convincing
himself that he should indulge his darkness. Gabriel cast a look around, there were now only t
wo
other customers, one barman and the stripper left in the bar as the night grew long, a man in his fifties to his right stood and staggered towards the stench of the toilets, he brushed past Gabriel causing his drink to spill into his lap, he felt a sudden dangerous surge of white hot anger fill his veins and aided by the strong alcohol it clouded his already strained judgement.