The Revelation Room (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 1) (5 page)

‘Where’s all your stuff?’

Maddie frowned. ‘Stuff?’

‘Clothes? Belongings? Sausages and beans to cook on the old
campfire?’

Maddie took a deep breath. ‘Our backpacks got stolen in
Newbury. Cleaned us out, more or less. We’ve been sleeping rough.’

‘That’s tough.’

‘You can’t trust anyone these days. If I could get my hands
on them….’

Marcus looked concerned. ‘What are you going to do?’

Maddie made a face to suggest food poisoning. ‘Go home. Back
to living with mummy and daddy. To be honest, I’d rather drink ditch water.’

‘You don’t get on with your folks, then?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Let me guess: middle class. Dinner parties. Designer
furniture.’

Maddie laughed. ‘That’s pretty accurate. You don’t know
them, do you?’

Marcus looked pleased. ‘I don’t need to. There are thousands
of them all across the country. I suppose they think you’re wasting your life,
wasting your education and wasting their precious time trying to induct you
into their hall of shame.’

‘Wow. You must have second sight.’

Marcus grinned. ‘Nah. I just see things clearly.’

‘To tell you the truth, they want me to be a teacher.’

‘A teacher? Those propagandists of the capitalist state.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

Marcus strummed an A-minor chord a few times. He then
accompanied it with a reasonable rendition of John Lennon’s
Working Class
Hero
. At the end of the song, Maddie clapped. A little too enthusiastically
for Ben’s liking.

‘That was really good,’ Maddie said.

Marcus thanked her. ‘The best songs always tell the truth.
The similarities between Lennon and Jesus Christ are startling. Both were
outspoken and controversial. Both were driven by a need to heal people. Both
wanted peace. And both were murdered in their prime.’

Ben thought the comparison was utterly ridiculous. ‘Lennon
was a bit before my time.’

Marcus looked at him as if he’d just threatened violence.
‘Jesus was a bit before my time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn from his
teachings.’

‘I’m not suggesting we can’t learn—’

Marcus flapped a hand as if swatting a fly. He looked at
Maddie. ‘So what do your parents do? When they’re not entertaining guests with
caviar and lobster, that is.’

‘My dad’s a headmaster at a private school. My mum works for
a charity.’

Marcus rolled his eyes. ‘I bet she goes to Africa once every
couple of years to really feel their pain and suffering.’

‘She does do some work with Oxfam.’

Marcus turned to Ben. ‘What about you, Ben? What are you
running away from?’

‘I’m not running away from anything. I just don’t get on
with my old man.’

Marcus grinned. ‘Bit of a control freak?’

Ben noticed both of his front teeth were chipped and
yellowed. It put a welcome dent in the guy’s good looks. ‘You could say that.’

‘And what does he do to justify his existence?’

Ben rummaged in his imagination for an answer. ‘He works in
a bank.’

Marcus snorted. ‘Don’t get me started on bankers. They’re
nothing short of legalised criminals.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Ben lied, mentally apologising to
his uncle John for dragging him into a web of lies.

Marcus launched into a scathing attack on everything from
bankers’ bonuses to the IMF. ‘Still, I suppose he’s all right to tap for a few
quid?’

Ben shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

‘What bank does he work for?’

Another apology to Uncle John. ‘Barclays.’

Maddie jumped in and rescued Ben. ‘Do you know if there’s
anywhere we can stay?’

Marcus didn’t.

‘We’re not fussy, are we, Ben?’

‘No,’ Ben lied.

Marcus tuned his guitar again. Conversation over.

‘What do you do when you’re not busking, Marcus?’ Maddie
asked.

Marcus looked up. ‘I give my life to the Lord.’

‘Seriously?’

Marcus clenched his plectrum between those two rotting
teeth. ‘Seriously.’

Maddie grinned. ‘You don’t look like a vicar.’

‘You don’t have to belong to a corrupt organisation like the
church to give yourself to the Lord.’

Maddie tapped her chest. ‘It’s what’s on the inside that
counts, right?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Follow your heart.’

Marcus put down his guitar and took a pouch of tobacco from
his crumpled jacket pocket. He rolled a cigarette. ‘I’m not promising anything,
because it’s not up to me, but I belong to a religious group. We’re called The
Sons and Daughters of Salvation. I could ask if they need an extra pair of
hands.’

‘Wow,’ Maddie said, ‘that’s a grand title.’

‘We give our lives to the Lord. That doesn’t mean to say we
spend all our time down on our knees worshipping the sun. Quite the opposite.
We oppose convention.’

‘Do you have any particular faith?’

Marcus shook his head. ‘We believe in the truth. I can’t
explain what we do in a few simple sentences. It’s a lifestyle based around
doing God’s will. Do you believe in God, Maddie?’

Maddie nodded. ‘Yes.’

Marcus looked at Ben. ‘What about you?’

Ben nodded. He was afraid to open his mouth in case the
truth came leaping out and scuppered their plan.

Marcus turned to Maddie. ‘Would you be willing to put your
trust in the Lord?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like I said, it’s not up to me. I’ll have a word with the
boss. If you meet me back here tomorrow at three, I’ll let you know what he
says.’

‘Are you sure?’ Maddie said. ‘We don’t want to put you to
any trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble at all.’

As they walked away from Marcus, Maddie reached out and grabbed
Ben’s hand. ‘That went better than I thought it would.’

Ben didn’t answer. He couldn’t help thinking he’d just
looked into a vast black hole and glimpsed the spectre of his own death.  

By the time Ben and Maddie arrived
at the Pentecostal church, Anne had returned home. Pastor Tom was sweeping the
hall, jacket unbuttoned, trilby hat jammed on his head. ‘How’d it go?’

‘Good,’ Maddie said.

Ben asked how his mother was.

Tom leaned the broom up against a chair. He looked out of
the window for a while before answering. ‘She’s bearing up, son. It did her
good to come by and help. Took her mind off things for a while. So what
happened in Oxford?’

Maddie recounted the day’s events, including the cover story
she’d given Marcus relating to her background. ‘So we’re going back tomorrow to
see what his boss has to say.’

‘You’re
both
going back tomorrow?’ Tom said. ‘I
thought you was taking care of Ben’s mother?’

‘Ben can’t do this on his own.’

Pastor Tom turned to Ben. ‘Is that right, son?’

‘I don’t know which way is up anymore, Tom.’

‘You could ask Rhonda to help out with Ben’s mum?’ Maddie
said.

Tom didn’t look convinced. ‘Rhonda’s already helping out
here. What am I supposed to do, split the poor woman in two?’

Maddie laughed. ‘Jesus fed the five thousand with a loaf of
bread.’

‘Five loaves and two fish,’ Tom corrected. ‘And just in case
you haven’t noticed, I’m not Jesus.’

‘Anne would love Rhonda.’

‘I’m not sure, Madeline. It’s a big ask.’

‘Rhonda won’t mind. She’s so sweet on you she puts on weight
just looking at you.’

‘You’ve got too much of an imagination, young lady. Anyway,
I need all the help I can get. If I lose both you and Rhonda, how am I supposed
to get the church hall painted out? And I wanted to sort out the garden. I
can’t do it all on my own.’

‘Can’t you get some of the kids from youth club involved?’

 ‘I want the hall painted, not destroyed.’

‘They’d enjoy it. Kids can go a long way on fizzy drinks and
biscuits.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Rhonda and Anne could both come along and help out with the
church services.’

Tom turned to Ben. ‘What about you, son? Is this what you
want?’

‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble, Tom.’

‘It’s just a matter of delegating the work,’ Maddie
interrupted.

Tom smiled at his daughter. ‘Perhaps you’d be good enough to
go to the kitchen and pour us all a nice glass of lemonade. There’s a fresh
bottle in the fridge.’

Maddie pouted. ‘So you can both talk about me?’

‘No. So we can all have a nice cold drink. I’m parched.’

Maddie flounced off to the kitchen. When she was out of
sight, Tom shook his head. ‘She’s got a lot of her mother’s stubbornness in
her. Sometimes that’s a good thing, but sometimes it can be a hindrance. All
I’m asking is that you both take a step back and try and see the wood for the
trees.’

‘I don’t want her to come with me if it’s going to cause
trouble, Tom.’

Tom took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed
his forehead. ‘Madeline gets a bee in her bonnet, and next thing you know,
she’s got a working hive.’

Ben smiled.

Pastor Tom didn’t. ‘Trouble is, son, those bees can
sometimes sting.’

‘Like I said, I don’t want her—’

Tom held up a hand. ‘I’ve always let her have free rein to
make her own decisions. Even when she was little. Children need room to grow.
They need to make their own mistakes because ultimately they will be stronger
for it. But there’s a whole world of difference between allowing a child to
grow and allowing a child to walk in front of a ten-tonne truck. Do you see
what I mean, son?’

Ben did. He’d spent most of his life trying to avoid
ten-tonne trucks.

‘If she ends up going with you, all I ask is that you take
care of her as best you can. That girl is the most precious thing in the world
to me.’

Ben looked at the floor. His best had never been good
enough. Not for his father. Not for Whittle Investigations. Not for his
playground tormentors. Stutter-buck hadn’t even been able to put a proper
sentence together without getting all tangled up. So how was he supposed to
take care of Maddie?

Ben spat out the words lodged in his throat. ‘I can’t do
this, Tom.’

‘Don’t put yourself down, son. I can still remember that kid
who jumped out of the conker tree.’

‘Fell,’ Ben corrected.

‘Do you remember him? The kid with the nasty stammer?’

Ben nodded. How could he ever forget the day that
Stutter-buck took flight after spending the best part of two hours trapped in
that conker tree?

‘What was it you said that day?’

Ben tugged his earlobe. ‘I can’t remember.’

‘You said that you wished you were dead. Do you remember
saying that?’

Ben nodded. He remembered only too well the humiliation. The
searing pain in his right knee. Pastor Tom bending over him.

‘You said that you couldn’t see any point in carrying on?
But there’s always a point, son. Even when we don’t see the point of the point,
if you catch my drift?’

Ben wanted to reach out and hug Pastor Tom. Hug him close.
Father to son. Something he’d never been able to do with his own father. ‘I
suppose.’

‘But I watched that kid grow.’

‘Like a beanstalk,’ Ben joked.

Tom didn’t laugh. ‘I watched him lose that stammer. I
watched him battle against all the odds, bit by bit, word by word. Do you
remember how we talked about climbing a mountain that summer?’

‘Yes.’

‘How I said that it’s important not to look up. You remember
why it’s important not to look up?’

‘Because it always looks a lot higher than it is.’

‘Too right, it does. Same thing as if you look down from the
top. It looks a mighty long way to fall. Do you remember how I said you need to
find footholds to help you up the mountain?’

Ben nodded. He remembered almost every minute of that summer
eight years ago. Pastor Tom had called the weather schizophrenic. One minute it
was pouring with rain, the next, scorching sunshine. Tom had told Ben how the
weather always played havoc with his joints, but it hadn’t stopped him teaching
Ben how to work Old Joe’s mechanism with his misshapen hands gripping the
levers.

‘You climbed that mountain, son. You stood on the summit and
you planted your flag right in God’s face.’

Ben didn’t think he’d reached a summit. He worked in an
office at home and made Airfix models in his spare time. His social life
consisted solely of youth club. Two stars for being a good boy, a big fat zero
for enterprise.

‘You deserve a medal for what you’ve achieved.’

‘I bet you say that to all the kids,’ Ben said, in his best
Old Joe voice.

Pastor Tom’s eyes sparkled deep blue beneath the shadow of
his trilby. ‘I know you’re sweet on Madeline, son. That’s why I know you’ll do
your best to look out for her.’

A blush crept up Ben’s neck. ‘Maddie’s a good friend.’

Tom smiled. ‘When I was in Rwanda, I met the most wonderful
people you could ever wish to meet. They had nothing. They were decimated by
war, poverty and disease. But do you know the one thing they all had in
abundance?’

‘Each other?’

‘Apart from that?’

Ben shook his head.

‘They had hope, son. And hope is the rope that will get
you
up the mountain.’

‘Do you reckon they ever got up the mountain?’

Tom took a deep breath. ‘I hope so, son. I hope so with all
my heart.’

Maddie returned with two glasses of lemonade and handed one
to each man. ‘We’ve made real headway today.’

Tom drained half his drink in one draught. ‘And now you need
to stand back and take stock. It’s one thing agreeing to join a cult, quite
another getting mixed up in one. They’re dangerous.’

Maddie put her hands on her hips. ‘We won’t get very far
without
getting mixed up with them.’

Pastor Tom removed his hat. ‘This isn’t a game, Madeline.’

‘Neither was Rwanda. But it didn’t stop you and Mum staying
out there, did it?’

‘That’s differ—’

‘What was it you always told me? Face evil. Confront it.
Never turn a blind eye. Wasn’t that what you said?’

Tom squinted at his daughter. ‘Yes, but—’

‘Who was it told me it’s wrong to turn a blind eye and just
walk away?’ Maddie persisted.

Tom put his glass down on a chair. His lips flat lined. The
warmth vanished from his eyes. ‘I said those things, Madeline, because they’re
true.’

‘So what’s the problem with me wanting to help Ben, then?’

‘Nothing. Nothing at all. I just don’t want you rushing
headlong into something you can’t control. You need to have a proper plan of
action.’

‘I know that. I’m not stupid.’

‘You’re not immune to getting hurt.’

‘I survived the attack on the village in Rwanda.’

‘God can’t always be there to look out for you, Madeline.’

Maddie looked at Ben. ‘You’ll look after me, won’t you?’

Ben held up a hand. ‘Please don’t fight.’

Maddie’s eyes flashed in the sunlight. ‘We’re not fighting.
We’re discussing.’

‘I don’t want you to come,’ Ben lied.

Maddie looked at him as if he’d just suggested she jump off
a cliff. ‘Tough. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.’

‘Then I won’t go.’

Maddie gawked at him. ‘So you’re going to give up just like
that? Just because—’

Ben stamped his foot and then felt instantly childish. ‘I
don’t want to cause trouble. I’ve had enough trouble with my own family. This
isn’t your problem. It’s mine.’

Pastor Tom turned to Ben. ‘It’s all right, son. If Madeline
wants to go, then she goes with my blessing. I’ve told you that. All I ask is
that we sit down together and work out a proper plan.’

Maddie nodded. ‘Okay, that sounds good.’

Ben wasn’t so sure. How did you plan for the unknown? They
didn’t have the first idea about the cult. Were they armed? Were they
brainwashed? ‘And what if it all goes wrong?’

Maddie grinned. ‘I’ve got a black belt in Taekwondo.’

‘That won’t be much use against a gun.’

‘Then we’ll just have to outsmart them. I could twist Marcus
around my little finger if I wanted to.’

Ben wished it was that simple. ‘It’ll take more than that,
judging by the state of my old man.’

Maddie tilted her chin up. ‘I know this cult isn’t a few
hippies sitting around a campfire smoking a peace pipe. I’m well aware that it
might be dangerous. I just want to help
you,
Ben.’

Ben opened his mouth to protest, but arguing with Maddie was
like arguing with the wind about which way it was blowing.

‘Come on. Let’s go to the kitchen and thrash out a plan of
action,’ Tom said.

Maddie agreed. ‘I’m up for that.’

Tom poured fresh lemonade for the three of them. They sat
huddled around the small kitchen table like conspirators plotting the downfall
of a mighty adversary. Tom plonked his glass down and wiped his mouth. ‘Does
this cult have a name, son?’

‘The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. That’s what Emily Hunt
called them in the letter to her mother.’

Tom whistled. ‘That’s quite a mouthful.’ He pulled out his
iPhone and googled the name. He scrolled through the search results. ‘Zilch.
Are you sure that’s the right name?’

‘I didn’t expect them to be famous,’ Maddie said.

Tom put his phone back in his jacket pocket. ‘So what have
you told this Marcus guy?’

‘We said we were hiking across the country and someone stole
all our stuff,’ Maddie said.

Tom nodded. ‘And he seemed okay with that?’

‘Why wouldn’t he be?’

‘Because liars are good at spotting liars, Madeline. They’re
experts at it.’

‘He seemed fine,’ Maddie assured her father. ‘I told him my
dad was a headmaster at a private school. I said I had posh parents who didn’t
understand me.’

‘What are you going to do if he tries to look up this
private school up on the internet?’

Maddie opened her mouth to answer and then closed it.

Tom took a sip of lemonade and wiped his mouth. ‘At the very
least, you’ll need the name of a real private school and the name of the
headmaster who runs it. And then you might be putting that person at risk.’

Ben agreed. ‘Your dad’s right.’

‘I’ll tell them I don’t have a clue which school he works
at. I’ll say I’m not interested in what he does. As for his name, I’ll just
make one up.’

Tom formed a steeple with his fingers. ‘ Be careful. From
what you’ve told me, it’s likely that they’ll try and extort money from your
fictional family.’

Maddie didn’t seem too concerned. ‘We won’t be there long
enough to let them try.’

Ben wished he shared Maddie’s optimism. ‘We hope.’

Tom looked at Ben. ‘What about you? What did you tell
Marcus?’

‘I told him my dad was a bank manager. I sort of gave him my
uncle’s name and occupation.’

Tom didn’t look very impressed. ‘Let’s hope they don’t dig
too deep.’

‘They won’t,’ Maddie said.  

Ben wished he shared her optimism. Something was bound to go
wrong. Had to. It always did.

‘If you end up joining this cult, make sure you hide a phone
somewhere,’ Tom said. ‘That way you’ll have something to fall back on if things
get tricky and you need help.’

Ben wondered if his father had any spare watch-phones
kicking about in the house.

‘When you hide it, put it outside if you can. Somewhere no
one else will look. You say you told Marcus that you had all your stuff
stolen?’ Tom asked.

Maddie took a sip of lemonade. ‘As far as he’s concerned,
we’ve only got the clothes we stand up in.’

‘So if you take a phone, you’ll have to be smart about
hiding it.’

Maddie grinned. ‘A smartphone.’

Tom grinned back. ‘A smartphone for a smart alec.’

‘Hey, that’s a boy’s name.’