When Evil Wins Read online

  “To back up what I am saying is very simple; if you ever have the chance to compare a psychical study’s metrics to a study on a new drug you will be able to note that, statistically speaking, the psychical study is more proven than any drug trial before the drug is made available for the general public. But will the psychical study ever be accepted? No. This is a bias we need to overcome. How? I don’t know. But, for me, publishing the 'cranks' work is a step forward.

  “I hope in my life time there will be an eventual acceptance of both ways; the two hundred year old science way and the six thousand year plus, old way.

  “Thank you.” As Richard Jameson finished his talk the audience stood and began to clap.

  John Gill got back on the stage, clapping Richard Jameson also, “Thank you, Richard, for your most interesting and apt insight. I don't believe that there is anyone here today who thinks differently from you.” John Gill directed Richard Jameson from the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, after that incredibly interesting introduction to our meeting we will have a short break. Drinks are being served from the hatch at the back of the hall. If you need refreshments please make your way there. The next talk will be in about twenty minutes.”

  Janus was over-awed by Richard Jameson, he was a powerful speaker. But to hear the things he said that weren't dismissive of phenomena outside the explanation of science, and him being an industry leader, made Janus feel that turning up for this meeting, this morning, had been the best thing he'd ever chosen to do. Janus felt an overpowering need to talk to the man.

  Unlike most speakers Janus had seen, mainly political ones at the Cliffs Pavilion, Richard Jameson didn't disappear as soon as he had finished his talk. Jameson had made his way to the hatch at the back of the hall and was surrounded by people wanting to query him further.

  Janus got up from his chair and made his way to join the crowd who were now standing around Richard Jameson. He didn't know what he wanted to say but just to talk to the man would be good enough for him.

  Time ticked on and gradually the crowd surrounding Richard Jameson dissipated as they checked their watches, wanting to get back to their seats for the next speaker.

  To Janus's surprise Jameson made no effort to leave. He seemed to be genuinely interested in the next presentations.

  Before Janus could open his mouth to address Mr Jameson, the man had turned to him. “What do you think about this?” he asked.

  “Errm,” was all Janus could say.

  “Sorry, I've been rude,” Richard said. “My name is Richard Jameson, though you've probably gathered that already.” Richard offered his hand to Janus.

  Shaking his hand Janus said, “Good to meet you.”

  “And?” Richard asked.

  “And… and… I think it's intriguing,” Janus finally finished.

  “You've not been to one of these things before then?” Jameson asked.

  “No… no, this is my first time.”

  “What made you come then?” Richard paused for a second before carrying on, “Sorry for the questioning, but I'm always interested in why people attend these things. I know why I come and I know what I think, but understanding why other people do is very important to me.”

  Janus was at a loss, should he speak up about his ability and his need to discover other people with the same talents or should he keep quiet to avoid any ridicule. In the end Janus opted for a non-committal stance. “I thought I'd just take a look to see, that's all.”

  “I know where you're coming from — sorry, you haven't told me your name.”

  Janus squirmed, feeling foolish that he hadn't completed the introduction, “My name's Janus, Janus Malik.”

  “Well, Janus. Why are you here?” Richard said, still curious as to Janus’s reasons.

  Janus didn't know whether to be totally candid or give a cut down version of his reasons. “Well, let's just say this, on occasions, with no deliberate intent, I sometimes see things.”

  “See things! That's interesting. I take it you don't mean seeing things as much as you are seeing me now, and here?”

  “Er — yes. Let's just say that,” Janus said.

  “Well, Mr Janus Malik, let me say this, if you do, as you’re intimating, then it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Richard said, his instinct telling him that there was something special about the young man he was talking to. “I don’t know,” Richard continued, “if you will ever need or use this, but here’s my card anyway.” Richard Jameson passed Janus his business card.

  “Thank you, Mr Jameson,” Janus said utterly surprised, taking the card. Before Janus could say anything else John Gill got up onto the small stage.

  “Can everyone please take their seats now as I have great pleasure in introducing, Mr Jim Hapstread.”

  The audience started clapping and Richard Jameson's attention focused on the stage and the new speaker.

  Janus, feeling overwhelmed by the unwarranted attention of Richard Jameson, took the opportunity to leave, holding Richard Jameson’s business card reverentially.

  As soon as he had got out of the meeting hall Janus turned on his mobile phone, it was only eleven thirty and he didn't expect any messages, but the flashing ‘message received’ icon told him otherwise.

  Janus punched his voice mail number into his phone and put it to his ear. He listened to the message. After it had finished he shook his head, surely there had been some mistake. He punched the number to access his voice mail once again and listened intently.

  Immediately the message finished he ran to his car. There must be some mistake, he kept telling himself.

  Chapter Seven

  Janus drove to Southend Hospital’s Accident and Emergency department as fast as he could. It was not far from the spiritualist meeting he’d just left and fortunately it would only take him a few minutes to get there. He still couldn't believe the message though.

  After finding somewhere to park he got out of his car and ran to A&E’s reception. He ignored the queue and looked about the room for the first nurse or doctor he could see. Spotting a nurse who was trying to settle a young mother with a very pale toddler in her arms he butted into their conversation.

  “Please tell me where my father is. How is he?” Janus stammered.

  “Excuse me, sir!” the nurse said, glaring at him, “I’m just dealing with this young lady, can you please hold on?” Turning back to the young woman the nurse continued, “Sorry about this. Please tell me again, what the problem is.”

  Janus grabbed the nurse's shoulder turning the woman to face him. “Please, I need to know where my father is. What has happened to him?”

  The nurse firmly removed Janus's hand from her shoulder saying, “Please, sir, after I have finished talking to this young lady I will answer your questions.” The nurse turned to face the young woman once more.

  Janus stood himself between the nurse and the young woman. “Please, my father is Andrzej Malik, I've just been told he has been brought here.”

  The nurse recognised the name. A few hours earlier a man in his late fifties had been brought in with serious injuries, injuries that were more than likely going to be fatal. The nurse pushed Janus to one side.

  “Sorry, Kim, I'm going to have to answer this gentleman's questions. If you can hold on for a few minutes I'll be back to talk with you very shortly and I’m sure we can sort out Abby’s problems.”

  The young woman nodded.

  The nurse turned back to Janus. “Are you related to Mr Malik?” she asked.

  “Yes… yes: I'm his son,” Janus said.

  “Mr Malik, please come with me.” The nurse took Janus to a small room off the A&E reception area. “Mr Malik. Your father is in surgery now. He's had a terrible, terrible accident and that's all I know. If you turn left out of here and then go up the stairs at the end of the hall you will find yourself in the Intensive Care Unit. Someone at the nurse's station will be able to tell you more. I'm so sorry. Please excuse me.” With this last comment the
nurse left Janus.

  Janus paused for a moment attempting to understand everything that had happened, but he couldn't make any sense of it.

  He made his way to the Intensive Care Unit. His progress was dreamlike and slow, his mind was racing but he didn't know what to think.

  How was it possible that his dad had had an accident? His dad was always more than careful. Nothing would come to mind. None of the scenarios he conjured up concluded with his father receiving potentially fatal injuries. What had gone on?

  He reached the nurses’ station in the Intensive Care Unit.

  He spoke to a person behind the desk. “I'm Janus Malik, I think my father is here,” he said slowly. Everything he did and said was slow and drawn out. Like living in an atmosphere made of honey, though the reality was not so sweet.

  “Ah! Mr Malik. We've been expecting you,” the nurse replied, seemingly in the same slow and drawn out manner.

  “Can you tell me what’s going on? I think my father is here,” Janus said.

  “Mr Malik, I think you need to sit down,” the nurse behind the counter replied. “You’ve had a great shock.”

  “My father is here?” Janus asked, the slow motion continuing.

  “No, Mr Malik, your father is in surgery,” the nurse said.

  “Will he come here?” Janus asked.

  “Yes, Mr Malik, after his surgery. Please sit down.”

  “Will he be alright?” Janus said, still on a kind of autopilot. He felt clammy, every part of his body seemed to have increased in weight and his muscles were struggling to support him.

  “After surgery your father will be brought here,” the nurse behind the counter said kindly, but without giving any indications as to his father’s situation.

  “Thank you,” Janus said. “Where do you want me to sit?”

  The nurse pointed to the seats which lined the wall opposite the nurse's station. “Just over there, Mr Malik.”

  Janus walked away from the desk towards the seats and finding an empty one he sat down. Two hours on Janus was still sat in his seat, still not moving, just thinking, trying to guess what had happened.

  “Mr Malik.”

  Janus didn't respond.

  “Mr Malik?”

  Janus looked up.

  “I think you may find this will help a bit.” The nurse handed Janus a cup of tea.

  Janus took it. “Thank you very much,” he said.

  “It's not a problem, Mr Malik.” The nurse smiled then turned away and made her way back to the station.

  Eventually a man in green scrubs wandered up to the desk and talked to the nurses behind it. After a short chat one of the nurses pointed in Janus's direction. The man looked at Janus, whose head was hung low as he stared blindly into the empty plastic cup. The man walked over to him.

  “Excuse me, Mr Malik,” the man said.

  Janus looked up, his mind still elsewhere.

  “It is, Mr Malik, isn't it?” the man in the green scrubs said.

  “Yes,” Janus answered, his mind coming back into focus very slowly.

  “I'm Mr Greensteed, I've just finished surgery on your father.”

  “Is he alive?” Janus asked.

  “He's very much alive, and stable, thank the Lord. But he will have to remain in the I.C.U for a while.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, as far as I can tell, the accident removed his left kidney and some of his intestine. It also made deep gashes in his back along with some severe puncture wounds. Unfortunately the tissue the scaffold pipe removed was unsalvageable. So we've had to patch him up as he is. Your father's constitution has more than helped him. He is an extremely resilient man for his age. I don't doubt he'll easily get used to just the one kidney from now on, and I don't think it'll affect him too much. There's other internal stitching we've had to do to make good his intestinal tract and he's also suffered a collapsed lung but I'm sure he'll recover given time. Your father is very lucky.”

  Janus stood up and before he could help himself he hugged the surgeon. “Thank you very much, sir.”

  “Mr Malik, your father is not out of the dark yet. He's had to be transfused twice, so far, and it's possible, though fairly unlikely, he could suffer further internal bleeding. His body has gone through a massive trauma.”

  “But he's alive,” Janus stated, trying to get to grips with everything he'd been told so far.

  “Yes. Very much so,” the surgeon replied.

  “Thank you very much, Mr Greensteed.”

  “No problem, Mr Malik. Please remember though, your father is not out of the dark yet.” Greensteed reiterated attempting to get the enormity of the injuries across to the man’s son.

  “Of course I'll remember that,” Janus said.

  “He'll have to stay in the I.C.U for at least three weeks, but this may change depending on his prognosis.”

  “Thank you again. When can I see him?” Janus said.

  “I think the day after tomorrow would be fine,” Greensteed answered.

  Janus left the hospital in a better state than when he’d entered. He wasn't happy but at least his father was alive. He would find out what happened when he went back to the hospital in the next few days.

  Janus jumped into his car and made his way home wishing that he’d never attended the spiritualist meeting in the first place.

  Janus felt sure that if he’d been available for his father's job from the outset, the accident would never have happened.

  Chapter Eight

  Three weeks had passed since his father's surgery and a week and a half since his father had been transferred to the surgical ward after the operation.

  Janus knew his Dad was now almost over the worst of his trauma. He had come to this conclusion because his father had started to moan about how he hated hospitals and how he would be much better off in his own home.

  During the time of his father's convalescence Janus had visited every day he could and had informed all their clients that, for a time, Malik Plumbing & Decorating would not be taking on any more contracts.

  After the first week of his father's recovery period Janus decided to broach the subject of the accident. He wanted to find out as many details as possible before engaging a solicitor and taking Regent Scaffolding to task for shoddy workmanship.

  “Father,” Janus started in Polish, “do you know what happened?”

  “Of course I know what happened; the scaffolding collapsed when I was on it,” his father replied.

  “Did you notice anything unusual or wrong with the scaffolding?”

  “Son, if I had noticed anything unusual with the scaffolding I would not have gone up the ladder in the first place.”

  “Okay Father.”

  “Janus, if you're thinking this is anything other than an unfortunate accident then don't. We have never done ill by anyone and no one wishes us ill. Let me put this down as a lesson learnt. Now please go, I'm feeling so tired. I need to rest.”

  “Okay, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow,” Janus finished in English.

  It didn’t matter what his dad had said, Janus wasn’t going to leave it at that and he had already booked an appointment with the manager of Regent Scaffolding.

  Leaving the hospital he drove directly to the offices of the scaffolding contractor. He pulled his car onto the business’s, almost khaki, concrete forecourt. It was a square area with worn and broken white lines demarcating the parking bays and was blocked off by a wooden panelled fence on the right. There were some mobile offices on the opposite side of the forecourt to the fence, all painted white with black plastic guttering and downpipes; only the flat grey-green roofing edges detracted from the non-colour scheme.

  The whole place was glazed with a winter’s drizzle though the rain was not falling at this time.

  At the rear of the site was industrial scale shelving that held the planks and metal tubes of the business’s mainstay. As he got out of his car he noticed Jack Randall walking towards him, obviously Jack
had heard about his meeting with the boss.

  “Mr Malik,” Jack said as he held out his hand to Janus, “I'm so sorry about…” Jack stopped speaking when he saw the look on Janus's face.

  As Janus saw the honest concern in Jack's eyes he recalled his father’s comments from the hospital bed.

  Janus took Jack's hand and shook it warmly. He had known Jack since his teens.

  “Mr Malik,” Jack tried again, “we are all so sorry about what happened to your dad. Is he going to be alright?”

  “Yes Jack,” Janus sighed, already knowing what had happened was not the fault of any of the members of Jack's scaffolding crew. “Jack, is there anything you can tell me about the day you put the scaffolding up?”

  “Nothin' special, Mr Malik. It was just a normal job. All of us are truly sorry about what happened.”

  “Yes, Jack, I know you are,” Janus said.

  “One thing does spring to mind though, Mr Malik, it was raining and it was bitterly cold that night. It might've 'ad something to do with it.”

  By the time Jack had finished talking the rest of his crew had left the staff canteen. They had seen Janus get out of his car and had come out into the yard to see what would transpire.

  As they stood there shuffling around they hung their heads low looking at the ground, occasionally raising their eyes to see if they could gauge what was being said between the two men. Janus looked over Jack's shoulder at the crew.

  “Jack.”

  “Yes, Mr Malik,” Jack responded quickly.

  “Tell Sean Regent I won't be needing to talk with him.”

  Jack let out a huge sigh, “Thank you, Mr Malik, thank you.” Jack grabbed Janus's hand and shook it hard as he now knew Janus had decided his crew had not been responsible for the accident.

  Janus turned to leave but before getting into his car he turned back to face Jack Randall, “I'll let you know how my father gets on,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mr Malik,” Jack said once again, waving.

  After the talk with Jack Randall in the first week of his father's recovery Janus knew he would not be looking for anyone to blame, it was, as his dad had said, an accident.