Authors: Douglas Lindsay
As he left the room and the company of the Prime Minister for the last time, he glanced down at the small black case which the PM had taken to carrying around with him that day, and which would be with him very possibly for the rest of his life. Barney stopped, thought for the last time about the small wooden box which sat inside the black case and about the amazing treasure inside the box, and then he stepped out the room and closed the door behind him.
At the sound of the door the Prime Minister stirred, the black case shifted minutely between his feet, before he settled back down into an easy slumber. And inside the black case, the small wooden box rested, the box which held the secret of the Prime Minister's true identity. For the Prime Minister was not the man that the hardworking, decent, honest people of Great Britain had thought him to be. He wasn't the son of an immigrant Slovak, who had worked down the mines for tuppence a week from the age of four; who had slaved for twenty hours a day in the mills as a teenager, before going home to sleep in a cardboard box, with the nearest toilet a five mile walk away; he wasn't the man who had led union protest marches against the Thatcher government, and who still wore his working class socialist credentials proudly on his sleeve, after all.
The Prime Minister was none of those things. The small wooden box, which had briefly fallen into the hands of the CIA, contained the ancient artefact which told of the PM's true identity; a small amulet, created in the time of Christ, which had depicted the third angel of the Lord. As seen on TV. Or as seen by John in his vision which led to the bestselling biblical epic blockbuster, Revelation. And the face of the angel, who threw down wormwood on vast areas of the planet, thus committing mass murder and leaving himself open to a charge of genocide before the International Court in the Hague, was the face of the Prime Minister, right down to the black tooth on the lower jaw and the horrific plastic smile.
However, the Prime Minister did not just resemble that angel of the Lord who had created such mayhem. The Prime Minister was that very angel, who had lived on earth for almost two thousand years now, an immortal, restless and tortured soul. And with that longevity, with the endless years of wandering the earth and getting in adventures, had come the madness which was so evident in the way he governed the country. Now, however, the secret was safe with him once more, and the two months of worry which he'd had since the box had been discovered by archaeologists in Egypt, were now over. The Prime Minister's dark secret was a secret once more. His constant aide through that time, Thackeray, had been killed, but he himself had escaped.
Barney Thomson returned to his hotel room, threw some water on his face, and then crashed into bed, exhausted and relieved that it was all over. And, although he was now in possession of the Prime Minister's dark secret, at least he had the man's word that no harm would come to him.
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More terrific Barney Thomson novellas!!
The End of Days
The Face Of Death
Barney Thomson, Zombie Killer
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Barney Thomson Novels
#1 The Long Midnight of Barney Thomson
#2 The Barber Surgeon's Hairshirt
#3 Murderers Anonymous
#4 The Resurrection Of Barney Thomson
#5 The Last Fish Supper
#6 The Haunting of Barney Thomson
#7 The Final Cut
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Other Novels
Lost in Juarez
The Unburied Dead (DS Thomas Hutton #1)
A Plague Of Crows (DS Thomas Hutton #2)
We Are The Hanged Man (DCI Jericho #1)
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Short stories
The Case Of The Glass Stained Widow (DCI Jericho)
Santa's Christmas Eve Blues
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