Beyond Evidence (11 page)

Nineteen

A medium's proof

The church hall was beginning to fill up fast. Patrick and Jodie had laid out the seats for their guests and made sure that the room was set up for the evening demonstrations.

Preston and Lang had arrived a little before eight o'clock so as to blend in with the crowd and they came dressed as normal people would, not police officers.

"I cannot believe that I am even attempting this," Lang sniggered.

"Why?" Preston asked.

"Well, I'm one hundred percent not into all this nonsense and I think it's a waste of time."

"Well in that case why don't you ask the boss if he could transfer you on to another case because lets face it, right now this is all we have," Preston sounded aggravated.

"I'm not saying I want out of this cas
e, I just don't trust Patrick."

"Yeah, you've made that pretty clear. Just go with it eh? I wouldn't have put my neck on the line with the boss if I didn't think that Patrick was capable of helping us in this alright?"

Both officers stayed quiet whilst more hopeful people poured through the doors of West End Spiritualist Church. Lang looked at the individual faces of those who had turned up at the church, hoping to get a message from a loved one from the other side. People took their seats as Patrick and Jodie took their places on the stage of the hall.

The hall was very large with high ceilings and a large chandelier in the middle. One bulb was out and there wer
e nine others dimly lit.

Suppose that's to set the eerie mood then?
Lang sniggered to himself. He looked around as he and Preston took their seats in the audience and saw that everyone had become silent and were now facing the stage.

"Good evening everyone. As some of you may or may not know my name is Patrick McLaughlin and this is my fellow medium, Jodie Jenkins. Tonight we will be trying our very best to get the messages to you that you wish to hear."

Lang sat back in his seat and listened.

"If Jodie or I come to you with a message, please answer in a clear voice yes or no. The spirits will link with your voice so we need you to be loud and as clear as you can."

Patrick looked at Jodie.

"If you have not been to anything like this before could you raise your hand?" Jodie spoke.

Lang suddenly saw Preston's hand raise along with a few others and realised that he himself had never been to anything like this before. He unwillingly raised his hand.

"OK, can I ask you Sir," she pointed to Lang. "What you hope to take away with you from this evening?"

Lang felt a little intimidated, like he was the only sceptical character in the hall. He looked at Preston who was suppressing a smile. Now he felt incredibly irritated.

"Hmm, I'd like some proof of the living dead I suppose," he said trying to disguise the irritable tone.

"You're not a believer in spirits Sir?" Jodie asked.

"I've yet to be convinced."

Jodie smiled at him and said, "OK sir, let’s see if we can then."

Jodie continued talking to the crowd as Preston failed to hide his grin. He turned to Lang and said, "I think she did that on purpose."

"You're damn right she did. She's obviously been talking to Patrick about my scepticism and decided to take the piss right out of me."

"Oh shut up.
Just listen to them and let's hope that we get something to work with from it." Preston turned to face the stage again.

The room was silent and Jodie stood utterly still as she and Patrick opened their minds to let the spirits channel their energies. Patrick looked straight ahead, without making eye contact with any member of the audience. He began to speak.

"Alright, I'm picking up on a baby in spirit," Patrick said.

The silence already within the room felt like it had turned to a still picture as everyone listened intently.

"I'm seeing an older man in spirit, claiming to have the spirit of a baby who passed only three days after touching the earth plane. Can anyone take the name George?" Patrick asked.

Then suddenly he shot a look at Lang, whose face had gone a whiter shade of pale.

Lang cleared his throat before he spoke. "I think I can."

"I have George here Si
r. I want to place him as your father?" Patrick continued.

"Yes that's correct," he said loudly.

Preston was in disbelief now, he stared back and forth at Patrick and Lang as they both spoke.

"I'm forced to believe that the baby your father is claiming to have is your son, Sir?"

Lang contemplated this for a few seconds.
This is bloody ridiculous, why am I even answering these stupid questions
? he thought to himself.

"Can you take that Sir?" Patrick pressed.

"I don't know, maybe." Lang sounded uncertain but in the pit of his stomach he knew exactly what was coming next.

"Sir, I'm being shown two hospital rooms here," Patrick paused for a few seconds and paced the stage as he took the message, "I
am seeing a car accident, your wife and father?"

Lang suddenly felt sick. Patrick was touching a nerve that hadn't been touched for a long time. He thought back to that fateful day when his Father's car collided with a truck on the M8 motorway, the car that carried his Wife, unborn child and his Father.

"Yes, there was a car accident involving them," he said. He thought to himself,
but
you're
telling
me
this, I am not telling you. You're getting the minimum out of me.

"I also have the name James, can you take that?" Patrick asked.

"Yes."

"Your baby son James is with your father George. He has given you this message. He wants you to know that they are both ok and that he is very sorry for what happened."

Lang thought about this for a few moments. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat. "Any chance you could go into more detail?"

"Are you sure you want me to open it up in a public meeting?" Patrick asked him.

"Well if you can, then why not?" Lang tried to keep his scepticism at the surface. He didn't want Patrick thinking he had broken him down already.

"OK, if you wish. I'm being told
that fifteen years ago, your Father and your Wife were going to visit some family. You couldn't be there as you had to work. It was a very sunny morning and the sun glare was overwhelming. Your father was driving and the sun had interfered with his ability to see the road ahead. He swerved slightly, but enough to collide with the truck coming up the right side of him. Your father slammed on the breaks and a car went into the back end of his. This caused your wife's waters to break and your father was left unconscious from his head being hit off the side window then the steering wheel. They were rushed to hospital where your Father died shortly afterwards and your wife gave birth to a baby boy, James, after you. Three days later your baby died in hospital, related to the car accident," Patrick stopped. He knew that he had said enough.

Preston looked at Lang. One tear dropped from his left eye and he wiped it away with his sleeve.

"Jim, you ok?" Preston put a hand on his shoulder.

"I need a
ir," Lang got up and walked out of the hall.

Patrick nodded at Preston to go after him. He watched as Preston left the hall and motioned at Jodie to take over the demonstrations.

"OK ladies and gentlemen I'm going to take over whilst Patrick has a break."

Patrick followed Preston outside to the front of the church. He watched as Lang lit a cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs for what seemed like forever.

"Are you ok?" Patrick asked.

"How the
hell
did you know all that?" Lang asked angrily "Did you do some kind of research on my family or something? I mean, seriously what the hell..."

"You know how I do it. You just don't want to believe it."

"Patrick I think we'll call it a night, I think we got what we came for," Preston said.

"Did you get what you came for?" Patrick asked Lang.

Lang considered this for a moment. Had he got what he came for? To be reminded of his son and father’s tragic deaths? The message had frightened him to say the least, but if anything else it convinced him that there was something else out there.

"Well, I think I got more than I needed. I'll hold my hands up Patrick, you've left me feeling rather amazed,"
he held his hand out to Patrick. "Looks like you're a legit part of our team now Mr McLaughlin."

"So you're converted then Jim?" Preston asked.

"Well wouldn't you be after experiencing that? Oh and by the way, I still want to see this automatic writing you were going on about! That would be interesting to see."

"Why not now?"
Patrick asked.

Lang looked at Preston then back to Pat
rick. "Not tonight, I've seen enough. But definitely tomorrow at some point."

Preston smiled and felt a sense of relief as Lang and Patrick shook hands.

Twenty

Dreams of fire

Back in their home at Glasgow Harbour, Patrick and Jodie had settled down for the night and were on the couch watching the television. Jodie stared at the screen and could hear Patrick gently laughing, but as she watched her brain did not absorb the information coming from the characters in front of her. Instead her thoughts were overloaded with what seemed like fog and the thickness clouded her consciousness.

She had zoned out from reality and not realised it. She was in a small room, it was dull outside. She looked out of the window and could see that the sky had clouded over. The clouds were thick and looked heavy, like they were dropping down from the sky. The room was cool and the walls were grey, but not due to the decor. She tried to see what was on the walls of the small room but she couldn't, her vision seemed to be blurred.

Why?

There was a small desk across from her in the far corner and there was a computer lamp on it. She stood up and walked slowly over to the desk and switched on the lamp to see if this would help her to see. As she switched on the lamp she understood why her vision was blurry, the room was filled with smoke.

But I can't smell it,
she thought to herself. She turned to see the rest of the room and walked to the window. As she looked out she couldn't see anything, just a blackness of nothing. She felt a wave of panic wash over her whole body. All of a sudden she felt hot and the heat crept from her toes all the way up her body. Not just the kind of hot you might feel on a sticky summers day as you make your way through crowds of people when shopping in town or in rush hour first thing in the morning on your way to work. No, this was different, like
oven hot!
It was as though she had opened one of those industrial ovens in kitchens that cater for hundreds of people every night in hotels and restaurants and the heat instantly fills the room and you immediately start to sweat.

"I have to get out of
here, I don't feel well at all," she said aloud, it helped to keep her calm, speaking to the empty room.

As she looked around for a door, she found that it was boarded up, with ten
inch nails and thick solid wood.

"What the hell is going on?" she screamed out. Just as she did, she noticed what was covering the walls in the dull grey colour. She inched closer and looked on at what was now the answer to her question. Jodie was reading intricate details about Angela Noble, Michelle Levine and Rebecca Collins deaths, from newspaper cuttings and hand written notes! As she scanned over them, she came across a picture of her
self, a photo with her name on it!

"Oh my god,
" she backed away from the wall covered in photos and writing. "How the hell did they get a picture of me?"

She turned around and as she did she screamed out, "Is that it, am I next you sick freak? Well come on then... I'm here now! Get it done if you really want to!"

She was in the killer's bedroom and there was no way out! She began to feel sick at the thought of what was happening. The room began to spin and she found a bin just in time before she began to vomit. As she wretched the blood came in thick clumps and she felt weak not only at the sight of her own blood but at the realisation that she was not breathing.

Then the fire came, it crept in through every crack in the wall, ceiling and floor. It came in through the holes punched in the wood boarding the door by the ten inch nails and under the door frame.

Her skin began feeling like it was being cooked. She tried to scream for help, but nothing came from her throat. She tried to crawl to the window in the hope that it would open, but then remembered there was nothing out there, only blackness.

She felt a hand on the back of her neck as she tried to crawl, and assumed the worst. She tried to speak but her lungs were filled with smoke. She began to shake, violently and fast. She looked up and was relieved to see Patrick's face, his face filled with terror, shouting at her.

"Jodie, wake up, wake up!"

She opened her eyes. She gasped for air and held onto Patrick for dear life. She sucked in the air deep and long and tried to see him through tear filled eyes.

I'm awake,
she thought.
I'm alive.