Her Moons Denouement (Fallen Angels Book 2) (22 page)

‘Something went wrong in our plans Rebecca.  Michael was never meant to die and we certainly didn’t know that Ennis was going to mutilate him in the way he did.’

‘So I was part of a plan, even back then, just a pawn in your sick game?’ Rebecca asks.  I feel her hand tensing and shaking and I can understand why.  She is feeling like me, a pawn again.

‘That’s not important right now.  Eve is important and she is in grave danger.  She may already be dead.  Now, I know this is hard but we have to focus.’  Adam answers, seeing the anger bubbling in Rebecca.

‘We knew that Bentley had carried out an atrociously bad investigation into Michael’s death and we wanted to know why.  Eve became Annie and started to investigate.  What she found out was that his investigation into Michael’s death was non-existent.  He took the professional medical advice of Ennis and the detailed forensic evidence and didn’t question one single bit of it.  What she did find out, when digging into case histories, was that over a number of years women who were the victims of domestic abuse have been going missing, never to be found.  She discovered that Fenny Bentley was involved in a number of those investigations.  She also found out that Bentley’s father and sister had met every one of those missing women at victim support groups shortly before they disappeared.  Eve recently found out that Bentley’s mother was beaten by his father and that she went missing too.’

‘So you think that Bentley is involved in these disappearances.  Do you think he has been murdering them, similar to the other religious leaders that you are exposing?’  I ask, the information stirring my interest. 

‘He is definitely involved, and we do think the women are all dead.  But it’s his father that is the killer.  We are sure of that.  What we don’t know, is if Bentley knows that, and we definitely don’t know how they are killing them.  We think Bentley may genuinely believe that he is helping victims of domestic abuse escape their abusers, and is helping them escape to a life in another country.  Eve found that Bentley has been getting false passports made for a number of years, all for women.  All provided shortly after a victim went missing.  Today she was going to confront Bentley with that theory and show him that not a single one of those women ever made it out of the country.  She was going to show him a photograph of his father with this man.’ Adam points to a picture on a screen, the same one Eve put up on my Evidence wall last night.

‘You have pictures of him with every one of the religious leaders that you have exposed, who is he?’

‘That’s another conversation for later.  The conversation for now is that she can’t do that anymore because while she was searching for more evidence at Bentley’s house last night, we believe his father abducted her.’ Adam says, pointing to a still red dot on the screen with Eve’s name above it, the map showing the North Queensferry peninsula. 

I look at the screen above it, a screen with my name on, a map of Edinburgh and a red beating dot over this house.  There is a screen for Rebecca and one for Adam and another dozen or so with different names above them. I look down at my arm.  Have they always known exactly where I am?

‘So what’s your Plan B Doc?  Can we stop pussyfooting around and can you tell us exactly what is it you want us to do? If Eve is in danger, we should get cracking.’  Rebecca interrupts, stepping forward and looking at the images on the screens.  Eve has taught her well.  She is a leader. 

‘We want you to interview Bentley.  We want you to find out where his father is keeping Eve.  We want you to find out if he is involved.’

‘Okay, one of the many problems there as I see it, is that he is currently sitting in a police cell.  I don’t think Police Scotland are going to let an escaped murderer and a Detective who has already been warned off the case three times anywhere near him.’ Rebecca’s voice is loaded with sarcasm as she stops in front of an image of a police cell, Fenny Bentley sitting on the floor of it.

‘How the hell have you got a CCTV stream from his cell?’ I ask as I scan the other moving images, seeing a few that look familiar.  There is one of the kitchen in the apartment next door.  There is one of the hotel room next to mine.  There is one of my hotel room.  They have cameras in the pictures!  That’s why there are so many Cezanne’s, they are using the pictures as cameras.  Why Cezanne though?

‘We have walked this earth a long time John and there are a great number of us, in every walk of life.  It is not hard to open a locked door when you either have the key, or know the person who does.  We were never going to carry out Bentley’s final interrogation at the station.  We were always going to do that here.’

Chapter 34

‘Ma’am, you need to come down to the cells, quickly.’  Calvey said over the phone, Cruickshank rising from her seat the second she heard the frantic tone in the Sergeant’s voice.

‘What is it Fred?’ she questioned as she rounded the table, still holding the phone to her ear. 

‘It’s Bentley Ma’am, Le Fenwick thinks he is having a heart attack.’

‘Shit.’  Cruickshank cursed, throwing the receiver onto the table, not even trying to hit the phone cradle as she turned and headed for the door at pace, striding down the corridor.  She barged past people in her way unceremoniously, her whole manner brusque, not offering any apologies and then sprinted through the Duty reception towards the holding cells, towards a small crowd of people listening intently to the sound of a commotion.

‘Come on people, let me through!’ she barked, pushing the milling officers out of the way, the sound of Le Fenwick’s voice rising above the general chatter. 

‘Come on Fenny, stay with me and breathe slowly, in and out.’ 

Cruikshank arrived at the open cell door and stepped through to see Bentley splayed out on the cell floor, his whole body tense and jerking.  Coffee was pooling around him, coming from a broken Celtic mug next to his quivering head.  Le Fenwick was leaning over his torso, still undoing Bentley’s top shirt buttons and trying unsuccessfully to remove his Mac.

‘What’s happened Dick?’  Cruickshank questioned, crouching down next to Le Fenwick.

‘He keeled over Ma’am. I’d just given him a coffee and was about to assess him to see if he was fit for questioning.  Can you help me get his Mac off? We need to make the clothing around his chest as loose as possible.’ 

Cruickshank leant over and pulled the Mac off one of Bentley’s twitching arms, watching as his eyes rolled in his head, spittle dribbling from his shaking lips.  ‘He’s losing consciousness Le Fenwick.  Have we called an ambulance?’

‘I can see that Ma’am.  Yes, I called one about five minutes ago.’ Le Fenwick answered, pulling Bentley’s other arm out of the Mac and yanking the dirty stinking garment from underneath his body.  He rolled it into a pillow shaped bundle, raising Bentley’s head slightly and putting it underneath.

Calvey came running into the cell.  ‘Here you go Dick, two aspirins and some water.’ he said, leaning down and passing the tablets and drink to Le Fenwick.

‘Come on Fenny, we need to get these inside you.’ Le Fenwick said anxiously, popping a pill into Bentley’s mouth and dribbling a stream of water after it, before holding it closed, feeling the swallow, then repeating.  ‘That might help.  Fred, go outside and when the ambulance arrives, tell them to get their defibrillator ready, he could go under at any point.’

Calvey nodded and backed out of the cell.  Le Fenwick started rubbing Bentley’s chest lightly with one hand, holding Bentley’s shaking arm with the other.

‘I think the stress of everything has gotten to him Ma’am.  He’s not in the best shape as it is and layering the stress on top of that has sent him over the edge.’

‘Let’s just try and keep him alive for now and worry about the whys and wherefores afterwards.’ Cruickshank answered with concern.

‘Through here guys.’ called the voice of Calvey from the corridor as he led two paramedics carrying a stretcher into the cell. 

‘Gents, I’m Dr Le Fenwick.  I was with the patient when he started to convulse.  Symptoms are difficulty breathing, abnormal chest pains, dizziness and shaking, anxiety, palpitations and cold sweats.  He is flowing in and out of consciousness.  He is having a heart attack.  His pulse rate is very low so I suggest we get him straight onto a stretcher and off to hospital.’  Le Fenwick instructed.

‘No problem Doc. I’m Ernie and this is Val.  Have you administered any drugs?’ one of the paramedics responded as they both laid the stretcher down beside Bentley and carefully lifted his heavy frame onto it.  They strapped his legs and waist, keeping the chest free.

‘I’ve just given him aspirin Ernie.’ Le Fenwick answered, grabbing Bentley’s Mac from the floor as he stood.

‘Le Fenwick, you go with them to the hospital and take Calvey with you.  He is still a suspect and needs to be under police guard.’  Cruickshank ordered as she and Le Fenwick followed the paramedics and stretcher out of the cell and into a crowded corridor.  ‘Will you vulture’s piss off back to your jobs right now!’  Cruickshank shouted, the onlookers dispersing immediately.

The paramedics loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, Le Fenwick and Calvey jumping in the back alongside the still shaking Bentley.  Val slammed the back doors shut and ran around to the driver’s cabin, jumped in and pulled out of the headquarters car park, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

‘Has his heart stopped at all Doc.’ Ernie asked as he unpacked the defibrillator just above Bentley’s stretcher.

‘No Ernie, but his pulse is very weak.  Have you got adrenaline shots ready just in case?’ asked Le Fenwick.

‘To the left in the fridge Doc.  I don’t mind you prepping one while I get the defrib charged.’  Ernie answered.

‘Is he going to be alright Dick?’ Calvey asked, his voice worried, his features drawn.

‘Well, his heart hasn’t stopped, which is promising, but he is in a bad way.  Can you hold his arm, just keep feeling for a pulse while I prep this syringe?’ Le Fenwick asked, standing and moving to one side, allowing Calvey to move up closer to Bentley. 

Ernie knelt back down next to Calvey, loosening a few more buttons on Bentley’s shirt before he looked up to Le Fenwick. ‘Is the syringe prepped Doc?’

Le Fenwick was standing above Calvey, drawing liquid from a small phial into the syringe in his hand.  He looked down towards Ernie with a focused, determined expression. 

‘I’m ready Ernie.  Are you?’ Le Fenwick asked.

Ernie nodded imperceptibly.  Le Fenwick lowered the syringe and quickly thrust it into Calvey’s neck, injecting the contents into his body.  Calvey sat up in surprise and tried to turn to see what Le Fenwick was doing.  Ernie grabbed his arms as he was turning and pushed him backwards off the small seat, onto the floor of the ambulance.  Ernie jumped over his torso as Calvey tried to wriggle free of his hands. 

‘Don’t fight Fred.  We don’t want to hurt you.  In a minute the GHB will kick in and you will go to sleep, so don’t struggle, you will only hurt yourself unnecessarily.’

Calvey’s stopped struggling, his eyes rolling, the pupils dilating.  His body went limp and his head lolled back, eyes closing.  Ernie let go of his arms and climbed off his chest.

‘That’ him out for at least four hours.’  Ernie said, turning back to the stretcher, where he checked Bentley’s pulse.  ‘Bentley is alright as well, the pulse is getting stronger.’

‘The potassium chloride should wear off soon.  Val, how far are we away from the house?’  Le Fenwick shouted through the small observation hatch into the cabin.

‘Only a couple of minutes away now Doc.’

‘Good.’ Le Fenwick responded, leaning over Bentley’s slightly shaking, unconscious body.  ‘It’s time for us all to find out exactly what you do know about what your father is up to.’

Chapter 35

So, here’s the choice this time.  The woman that we love has been abducted by a killer and is almost certainly in grave danger.  The clandestine organisation that she belongs to wants us to question a man who they have broken out of a police cell, to try and find her whereabouts.  If we say no, she dies.  If we say yes, we are drawn further into a world of questionable values, a world a long way away from legal and still no further forward finding out if we are pawns, knights or kings and queens.  There was only one squeeze of the hand, one flick of the eye.  There comes a time when you have to recognise the only way you can have a chance of winning any game, is to understand that you are taking part, whatever part you are playing.  That answer was always going to be yes.

I sit on a white painted wooden chair in a crisp clean three piece suit, my legs crossed, hands resting clasped on top of the knees.  A few feet away from me, Rebecca is sitting on a similar chair wearing a black backless trouser suit, red Jimmy Choo high heels and a long auburn wig.  Her legs are crossed and her hands are clasped, similar to mine.  Behind us is a wall of pictures.  A picture of every single woman that we think Pastor Bentley has abducted.  Above them, there are pictures of the three revealed murderers and a picture of Pastor Bentley, all of them with the same man.  In the middle of the photographs is a painting.  It is an original Cezanne, called ‘Harlequin’.

We are in a drawing room, with oak beamed floors and white painted walls.  There is no furniture in the room apart from the chairs we are sitting in and the one in front of us, which Bentley is tied to.  He is stirring, his head lolling from side to side, his eyes starting to open. 

‘Are you ready for this?’ I whisper over to Rebecca, smiling in her direction, slightly distracted by how beautiful she is looking.

She returns the smile, then looks back at Bentley, her features becoming fierce.  ‘Oh yes, I am ready.’

Bentley’s eyes fully open and he squints, looking around the room, his eyes focusing, trying to get his bearings.  He stares at me for a few seconds, his gaze then drifting towards Rebecca, looking her up and down, staring into her eyes before he starts laughing uncontrollably.

‘Fucking hell.’ he squeaks out after a few moments, through the laughter, ‘You had me, good and proper.  Both of you have been fucking me over.’

‘Bentley, look at the wall behind us, do you see the pictures of those women.  Do you know what happened to them?’  I ask, not moving in my seat, keeping my tone calm and conciliatory.

‘What the fuck has that got to do with you? Either of you?  You are a loon on the run from the law and you are a washed up DI helping her, why the fuck should I answer any of your questions?’ he spits in our direction.

‘You think that every one of those women is living a new life in another country.  You think that your father, your sister and you have saved them from a life of domestic abuse.  That’s what you think.’  Rebecca says as calmly and conciliatory as I did.

Bentley pauses, a look of concern entering the anger, a guarded expression rolling over his features.

‘Look at them again Bentley.  Look at them closely.  Look into their eyes, notice the smiles on their faces, their unblemished skin.  It’s easy to see how you might think they are living a good life now, when you don’t know the consequences of what you have done.’  Rebecca uncrosses her legs demurely and stands up as she speaks, taking a handkerchief out of a pocket in her trouser suit.  She stands directly in front of Bentley, staring directly into his eyes, and takes her wig off, exposing her near hairless head, with the flesh riven and scarred from where she ripped her hair out.

She leans over slightly, letting Bentley see the full extent of the damage, opening her mouth at the same time and flashing the stump of her chewed tongue.  ‘Did you have any idea that this would happen to me when you left me in the hands of the monster Dr Ennis?’ Rebecca asks as she starts wiping the makeup off her face, revealing the scratches, cuts and burns all over it.

‘Is that what all of this is about?  Getting revenge for what Ennis did to you?  Fucking up my life because he gave you a hard time.  You fucked your son and you killed him.  You deserve every fucking thing he did to you.’ Bentley antagonised, snarling at Rebecca as he spoke. 

Come on Rebecca, keep it calm and don’t let him intimidate you.  She raises her head and pushes her shoulders back, standing tall and proud.  ‘And your father fucks your sister.  Do you think either of them would deserve this?’ she replies with an impeccable level of calmness.

Bentley just stares at her, gobsmacked.

‘I am not showing you what happened to me as any kind of revenge.  I am trying to show you that we all have things we keep behind closed doors.  I am showing you what is behind my closed door because the three of us in this room need to find out the truth before the two women at the bottom of those photographs end up dead, if they aren’t already.’  Rebecca adds, walking over to the wall and pointing to the pictures of Coleen Naismith and Eve.

‘I have lied to the police about what I know of this case.  I have been tracking down Madame Evangeline for the past few weeks and I found her.  I withheld evidence from my last investigation, using it to track her down.  If my superiors were to find out, I would be arrested straight away and would undoubtedly serve a long prison sentence.  But no one else was going to help me find out the things I needed to.  This isn’t about the law Bentley and this certainly isn’t about what any of us would traditionally think of as right or wrong.  Right now, this is about two women who are in danger: two women who are in danger of your father.’

Bentley stares at me, thinking, his eyes then darting to the pictures of the women on the wall, settling on the two at the bottom.

‘What exactly is it you think my father has done?’ he asks quietly.

I stand up and join Rebecca at the wall, pointing at the pictures of the killers.  ‘You see this man with O’Driscoll, Mann, Chodak and your father.  Do you know him?’  I ask.

‘No, never seen him in my life.’

‘Not many people have, yet here he is with three mass murderers and your father, who had contact with each and every one of the women on that wall before they disappeared.  When it comes to evidence, that is a lot more than circumstantial, that is bordering on compelling.  At the least it should make you want to ask questions.  Questions like, where did my sister take Coleen if she didn’t leave the country.’ I finish, walking back to my seat and sitting down, crossing my legs.

‘I know you think I am Madame Evangeline Bentley, but you are wrong.  Annie Tait is Madame Evangeline.  Annie Tait has been trying to find out what happened to those women for quite a while now.  Annie Tait found out that your sister has never flown out of Scotland.  Annie Tait is risking her life to try and find out the truth.  We have to help her.  We need to know what is going on so that we can help her.’ Rebecca says as she returns to her seat and sits down, crossing her legs.

‘We think your father has abducted and killed these women Bentley.  We believe that you genuinely think these women have been saved and spirited off to another country.  We believe that your intent in this was to make sure they were safe from their abusive partners.  Fenny, none of us are perfect.  All of us make mistakes.  I just want you to think about the things we have shown you, just think: what if I have made a mistake.  There might still be time for Coleen and Annie.  It’s your choice.’

Bentley sits quietly, looking between me, Rebecca and the pictures on the wall, the cogs whirring as his eyes flit between us.  His lips start to move, but say nothing for a moment.  I can tell his mind is trying to think of the right words.

‘Father would always find them.  Women who couldn’t escape from their abusive partners, women who wanted help.  We would take them in, giving them a place to stay out of the way and help them think about a life without abuse.  So we helped.  I would organise alternate identities and Dessie would arrange onward arrangements, a new life in a different country with a new identity.  Some of their partners were monsters and the women wanted to see them punished.  Sometimes, when they wanted me to, I would plant evidence incriminating the abusive partners.  I would like to say that I did that just for the women, but I wanted to get those scum off the streets as well.  I don’t believe that my father has killed anyone, I don’t believe that Dessie didn’t take them to their new identities.  But I can see that there are inconsistencies and I can see that there is a wealth of evidence to suggest otherwise.  What do you want me to do?’ Bentley asks as his body sags in his bindings, his spirit broken.

‘We need you to take us to where they are hiding.’  Rebecca answers.

Bentley sneers as he looks towards her, then at me.  ‘Alright, but you might want to get changed out of your gladrags first, it’s a bit dark and dingy where we are going.’