Authors: Matt Drabble
CROSSROADS
“
When the Lord your God brings you into the land you are entering to possess and drives out before you many nations . . . then you must destroy them totally. Make no treaty with them, and show them no mercy
”
.
Deuteronomy
7:1-2
This was a bad idea McCullum told himself for the hundredth time,
it was nine thirty at night,
the area was a poor one and inhabited by desperate people who did not welcome the police at any hour for any reason, they took care of their own problems via sawn off pool cues and the sharp ends of broken bottles thrust into faces. McCullum had left his car in the city centre and
was paying
a worried taxi driver way over the odds to drive him in, they passed under the railway bridge that offered an imaginary barrier that kept the wolves away. He had a lead on Justin Marsh and it was one that he did not intend to share with anyone else, Marsh was connected intimately with
St Paul
’s and more importantly with Father Andrew Jacobs and right now he wanted all of the information laid at his feet regardless of how he had to extract it. Broken down terraced house with boarded up windows flashed past on either side as the taxi drove too quickly through the war zone, collections of angry and resentful youths stood on most corners, no ASBO badges here
,
these were
dangerous
hardcore thugs, their faces cold and callous
.
McCullum had finally broken his bad luck spell when one of the feelers he had sent out came up golden, a two time loser with an unaffordable drug habit looking to put some police good will in the bank had furnished him with an address. So here he sat
on a lumpy backseat of a taxi that had
frankly
seen better days
,
being driven into the worst area of the city, alone and unarmed w
ith nobody knowing where he was.
T
he car slowed as the building in question drew closer, McCullum thought that the taxi driver would have rather he jumped from a moving car than come to a complete stop. He had barely exited the car before the driver screeched away from the curb without checking to count the money grabbed quickly from his outstretched hand. McCullum stood back into the shadows whilst the taxi drove nosily away, when he was sure that the car hadn’t attracted any attention he crossed the road and headed towards the large disused
building. The deserted building in question was an expansive white elephant that
had been renovated
during an unsuccessful regeneration project long since abandoned by the Welsh
Assembly
.
With a quick look around McCullum headed around to the rear, the whole
area
was abandoned and seemed darkly forsaken, he had to kick his way quietly through a myriad of filth and
debris
scattered about the waste
ground. He spotted a rear window whose boards seemed a little more rotten and decayed than the others, it crumbled in his hands and came away easily, McCullum needed to exert only minimal pressure as the window latch fell away and the window slid up without much resistance. He boosted himself up and into the back room, the stench of moldy wood and soiled carpeting was almost overpowering and he had to hold his hand over his face until he could bear the smell, he listened intently
to his surroundings seeking the noise of his prey. After a brief but thorough pause he ascertained that the only noise he could presently hear were the faint
scratching claws
of the building
’
s new rodent tenants, McCullum
switched on the powerful torch that he had brought and
moved out of the room silently toward the corridor, this lower floor had four doors including the one he had just walked through leading off from a central hallway.
His feet squelched on the stained and decomposing carpet,
the torchlight shone through cascading swirls of dust illuminating his path, he could see that
vandals had long since destroyed practically anything that they could whic
h included the radiators spewed water onto the carpets that would
never be cleaned again
.
McCullum could clearly
see that the other three doors were open and their rooms empty
, at least
of any two legged inhabitants.
He began to edge his way up the staircase, the banister had long since been pulled down, there were holes punched into the plaster that lined the stairs as he climbed, his torch lit the way as he aimed the beam at his footsteps to be sure of avoiding any alerting mishaps. There, a noise, McCullum came to a full and silent stop, there had definitely been a movement too heavy to be considered a rat or any other members of the animal kingdom
, he remained rock still and extinguished the torch. Plunged into darkness McCullum waited, light footsteps began to echo toward the landing, an approaching low glow struggled for life against the dark as batteries were i
n the last throws of their days.
A
figure appeared shuffling towards the top of the stairs, the figure was a medium built man with his head bent and body stooped as if weighed down by the troubles of the world. McCullum suddenly turned on his powerful flashlight and shined it full bore into the mans face, the force of the beam blinded the man who raised his hands to cover his eyes against the assault, McCullum ran full paced up the stairs taking them two at a time, the man did not have time to regain his vision before he was smashed by six foot three and sixteen stone of a heavily muscled Detective Inspector, it was no contest.
McCullum drove the much smaller man flying backwards and into the plasterboard wall with a shoulder charge leaving a massive crater in it, the man slumped to the floor, his gasping wheezing breaths told McCullum that at least several ribs had been broken. He stood back and over the man and illuminated him with the torch, he could now see that the man was nothing more than a skinny youth, but at least it was Justin Marsh, owing to the fact that he was wanted for the assaults of an elderly woman and a beloved priest, it would probably be enough to negate any excessive force complaints.
“Evening Justin, how goes it?” McCullum asked amiably.
Marsh continued to lie crumpled on the floor, after a short while he began to laugh, it was an eerie sound that permeated through the perished hallways and one that McCullum did not much care for, he heaved the teenager up off the floor one handed, Jacobs may have been a man to be worried about but he was damned if he was going to feel nervous around some spotty
arsed
kid.
“What’s so godamned funny you little shit?” McCullum growled.
“You, heathen” Marsh’s voice trembled with laughter, spittle mixed with blood spewed from his cracked lips, “You have no idea of the
furious vengeance that you have brought down upon your head, he will tear at your soul and feast on your bones, he will tear your world apart and rain fire down…”
McCullum smashed the kid full in the face hard, partly through anger and partly through fear, but whatever was going on in this increasingly weird world he was not going to take crap from punks like this. He waited a few minutes to gather his composure again then dragged Marsh by the ankle into the back room where he had obviously been living, the room was surprisingly clean and kept for a
squatting tenant, candles were lit around the floor, a sleeping bag lay neatly rolled in the corner and a prayer mat faced the boarded up window.
McCullum flung the groggy Marsh into the centre of the room, he grabbed a bottle of water from out of the supplies in the corner, he poured the water over the semiconscious teenager, Marsh spluttered back into an almost fully coherent state
.
“How about we try that again sunshine” McCullum knelt next to the flat on his back suspect, Marsh’s eyes had cleared enough to receive questions once more.
“Now then, how about we run through what you did to the priest and perhaps just what the hell is going on
up
there”
Marsh was emitting a strange
odour
of sweat and insanity, McCullum had once spent four months working in a hospital for the criminally insane during studying for his
psychology degree, he recognised the aroma from his work experience as it still invaded his dreams. Marsh’s reddened face burned with a manic intensity he appeared to be dangerously unbalanced, it did not seem to be a very large leap to imagine him attacking the priest, but
somehow
it did not feel right, it felt as though it was supposed to be right to the outsider
,
but after his hospital encounter with Jacobs he was no longer an outsider, he wa
s however an insider without
knowledge. Marsh’s gaze kept drifting back to a large looking bible that was placed on the prayer mat, Marsh seemed to gain peace and confidence with every look, McCullum stood and walked across the room, he
swept up the bible which instantly elicited a panicked response from Marsh who
attempted
to
gather his feet and intercept the bigger man.
“Noooooo” he screamed, “Give it to me, give it to me” he staggered across the room and tried to pry it from McCullum”s hands.