Beyond Evil

Chapter Fifty-Six

‘We’ve got to do something,’ Ted hissed at Charlie, who pulled out his phone. He had a message. He shielded it with his back to hide the glow from the screen.

‘It’s from Sheldon,’ Charlie said. He read it and nodded to himself.

‘What is it?’ Ted said.

‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ he said, almost to himself. When Ted frowned, Charlie said, ‘It’s about John Abbott. The police paid our bill to represent him, because Abbott works for the police.’

‘What do you mean?’

Charlie showed Ted the message. It just said, Abbott is undercover. Infiltrated group.

‘Undercover?’ Ted whispered, surprised.

‘It looks like Amelia represented a fake defendant to attract the attention of Henry Mason.’

Ted’s eyes widened, visible in the moonlight. ‘Which is why Amelia called the police after Billy made the video. She was worried about Abbott, because she knew that Henry Mason wasn’t just some political activist.’

‘He was a murderer,’ Charlie said, nodding.

Charlie sent a message back to Sheldon to let him know that people were in danger, and that they were at an old cottage on Jackson Heights. Once he clicked send, he looked at Ted and said, ‘We have to wait for the police. There’s too many of them. They’ll turn on Donia if they catch us.’

‘We can’t just sit here and watch someone die,’ Ted said, and started to climb out of the ditch.

Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back. ‘It’s too late to save whoever that is,’ he said, desperation creeping into his voice. ‘Think of Donia.’

Ted shrugged him off but didn’t say anything.

Charlie looked towards the figures by the stones, and in the moonlight, he saw the blood on the woman on the stone, dark against her pale skin. She was still now. He looked across to the window where he could see Donia’s outline, and he realised she would be next, whatever they did.

Ted was right.

‘I’ll go,’ Charlie said, and started to clamber out of the ditch.

‘What do I do?’

‘Sit tight,’ he said, and then jumped out of the ditch and ran the short five yards to the wall. He was in the open, and knew that movement might attract their attention, but it was the only way. His hands went onto the wall. The stones were loose, but his choices were limited. He threw his leg towards it and scrambled over, heard the clack of stones as he fell to the ground on the other side. He sat there, panting, waiting for some sign that he had been seen or heard. He couldn’t hear anything.

Charlie took a deep breath and tried to work out the layout. There was movement nearby. He jumped, and then clasped his hand to his chest as he saw the outline of a sheep. The deep thump of his heart made him realise that he couldn’t afford to get this wrong.

He went onto all fours and shuffled along, his fingers moving through the coarse grass. The cottage got nearer all the time, and he could see light through the windows. Donia wasn’t visible, and he started doubting that it had been her, but he had to keep going, just in case.

He got to a gate, a metal five-bar that kept the sheep penned in. He peered through. He was level with the standing stones, visible along a stone path than ran alongside the cottage. His eyes shot to the window again. He saw Donia’s outline again, the curl of her hair. And he noticed something else this time; the metal grille on the window, and the sharp knots of barbed wire.

There was excited chatter coming from the group at the stones. The woman on there was naked and still, and Charlie could see blood on her, some of it seeping onto the stone. He smacked his hand against the wall in frustration. He should be helping her. He sat back, felt the cold stone against his body, and hung his head for a moment. But he couldn’t focus on that. He had to find a way inside without being spotted.

He went to the gate again and peered through. The woman on the stone had not moved, but it seemed like the group was distracted by her.

The gate was held closed by a small loop of rope. Charlie lifted it away from the stone gatepost, watching the group all the time, waiting for someone to spot the movement, and then pulled at the gate. It didn’t creak. He let out a long breath, and then put himself into the gap. He kept on watching the group and made a silent prayer that there was still enough darkness around him to hide the pale glare of his face.

There was a small stone courtyard behind the cottage, sheltered by an outbuilding that spurred off the main house. It would give him shelter, but he couldn’t see a way in. As he looked along the cottage though, he saw a shaft of light going onto the grass. It was the main doorway. He would have to go in that way.

Charlie ran across the path, kept low and headed for a dark shadow in the grey stone that was created by the overhang of the roof. There were no shouts, no one looking towards him.

He tried to absorb himself into the wall so that he was enveloped by darkness, but everyone seemed too engrossed in whatever was going on at the stone circle to hear him.

His footsteps were slow as he crept forward, careful of where he was standing. The darkness at the side of the house made him feel more secure. His foot kicked something metal, and so he paused, to make sure that no one had heard him. As the metal object caught the light from the window, he saw the jagged teeth of an animal trap.

Charlie knew then that it wouldn’t be easy.

As he edged forward, he saw that he had to cross the window where he had seen Donia. He moved quickly, knowing that he would cast a shadow across the path. As he got back to the relative darkness, he took another look around. There was nothing there except the light from the window reflected back against the eyes of a watching sheep, like yellow glints in the black.

He was close to the corner of the house and could see more clearly what was happening on the stones. The woman on the stone wasn’t moving, but the blood still ran from the wounds along the side of her body, gravity doing the work, her heart no longer pumping it out.

Charlie closed his eyes. What the hell was going on up here?

Then when he opened his eyes again, he saw that everyone was looking up the field, distracted now. He followed their gaze, and then he put his head back against the wall.

It was Ted, walking towards the group.