When Evil Wins Read online

  Janus Malik walked along London's Museum Street towards the brown tinted, glass fronted building that was R.J. Publishing.

  Pushing the translucent doors open he entered the business’s foyer. Opposite him was the back wall of the reception area, the visible parts of which were a light grey colour. Masking it were the enlarged covers of every book R.J. Publishing had commissioned since its inception.

  To his left was a seating area consisting of a wooden coffee table, either side of which were placed two deep brown leather sofas.

  Crossing the light tiled floor he made his way to the rich wood veneered counter, smiling at the receptionist.

  “Hello, Mandy, I'm here to see Mr Jameson,” Janus said to R.J.P’s receptionist cum secretary.

  “Hello, Mr Malik. You can go up now. He's expecting you,” she said.

  Janus winked at Mandy; “Mandy there's no one around. You can call me Janus you know, but on the other hand you've only known me for the last year, almost; so I understand that we can hardly know each other,” Janus said with a grin.

  “Janus, don't be daft,” Mandy replied, “you know how strict Mr Jameson is about the etiquette on reception and I don't want to lose this job. It's the best I've ever had.”

  “Mandy, you know you’re too valuable to lose. You could get away with practically anything, I'm sure.” Janus winked once more and made his way to the lifts crossing the tiled floor onto a dark maroon carpet that led into the depths of the building.

  Having pressed the call button the doors to the left-hand lift opened immediately and he stepped inside. He pressed the number three button and the lift's doors slid silently shut.

  Janus was worried about his work; this time around he had done something quite different from anything he had produced in the last few months. It was less of a paranormal investigation and more of a history, but that was all he had.

  Janus knocked on Richard's heavy wooden office door and waited. Within a few short moments Richard said, “Come.” And Janus entered Richard's plush wooden panelled office.

  “Janus, thanks for coming. What do you have for me?”

  Janus handed Jameson the manuscript. “Thanks,” Jameson said, “I hope there's a bit more bulk to it than you had in your last version of this manuscript. Having said that and looking at the amount of folios in this one, you’ve probably done it again.” Janus almost wilted at this last comment and Richard continued; “Giving me another piece of work I can publish,” the publisher finished. Janus sighed, relieved.

  “This one is a little bit different from the work I’ve done before, but I think it will be more enjoyable for it,” Janus said, without complete confidence.

  “Okay, Janus. I'll pass it on to my reader and we'll see what he says.”

  Normally Janus had no qualms about this; it was a process his other works had been through frequently during the time he had been with R.J. Publishing. This time was different, however. Janus hadn't been able to conclude his investigation in the usual way and he’d had to bulk it out with more history than he’d been used to.

  “Janus, I have a meeting in about ten minutes, if there's nothing more, can we conclude?” Jameson asked.

  “There's nothing more,” Janus said, “I hope you enjoy it.”

  “You know I will, Janus, but you also know it's up to my reader.”

  “I know,” Janus said, hoping Jameson’s reader would have as much faith in him as Richard seemed to have.

  “Okay. If that's it then I'll meet you again soon,” Jameson said, winding up their meeting.

  Janus left Richard's office and on the way out of the building he stopped at reception. “Mandy, it's almost lunchtime. Do you fancy having a bite to eat and a drink? Some oriental cuisine perhaps?” Janus said, knowing there was a bar a few minutes away, just around the corner, which served some excellent Thai food.

  Mandy checked the clock on the wall opposite her desk. “If you hang on a few more moments, Janus, I would love to,” she said.

  Janus made himself comfortable on one of the sofas in the reception area whilst he waited for Mandy. He liked her, they got on really well. She was an attractive young woman with straight blonde hair and incredibly blue eyes. Their relationship, which had developed over the preceding months Janus had been turning up at the offices of R.J. Publishing, was more akin to a brother and sister relationship rather than anything else.

  The clock ticked on and Mandy got her coat from the cupboard built into the wall behind her desk.

  “Where are you going to take me then, Janus?” Mandy asked.

  “Bar Oporto, it's on High Holborn, not far,” he said.

  As they walked to the venue they talked, and after what seemed to be only seconds they were entering the bar through its slate grey door.

  For the time of day Bar Oporto was fairly empty and the food they ordered arrived promptly.

  “I do like it when you ask me out to lunch,” Mandy said, toying with her tofu.

  “I enjoy it too, Mandy. You know, I've not said this before,” Janus paused for a moment contemplating what he was going to say next, “and I hope you don't mind.”

  “What?” Mandy said before Janus could finish; she was a little worried about what she thought was coming next.

  “And I hope you don't mind,” Janus started again, “you're like the sister I never had. I can just talk to you, and I like to think you feel the same,” he finished.

  “That's strange,” Mandy replied, relieved, and before she could say anything else Janus responded; “Why strange?”

  “Well… Since the first day I saw you I thought; wouldn't it be nice if you were my brother. I’ve never had one you know.” Mandy frowned, and then added; “Didn't have much of a family either.”

  Janus was relieved by Mandy's first statement and knew better about making any comments as to the second. This was as he had hoped. She felt the same way he did and he was glad he hadn't crushed any misconstrued feelings.

  He was still getting over the confusion his break-up with his ex-wife had caused, at her behest, and was not really ready to take on another relationship, though the break-up had been along while ago. However, his maintenance payments had now finished and perhaps it was time he should move on.

  “Thanks, Mandy, that's really great to know.” Janus changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the ins and outs of personal relationships. “Do you truly enjoy working at R.J.P as much as you say?”

  “Of course I do, Janus. What a silly question. Mr Jameson is a very nice man, but sometimes I do think he’s a bit strict.”

  “Yeah,” Janus agreed; then said, “If it wasn't for him I'd probably be destitute by now.”

  “Why's that?” Mandy asked.

  “Oh… Nothing I want to talk about really. It's history now anyway.”

  Their small talk continued and they finished their meal.

  “I really ought to be getting back now, Janus. Is that okay?” Mandy asked, tentatively.

  “Of course it is you twit,” Janus said smiling at the Jameson Publishing’s secretary. “Can't have you losing your job can we?”

  “No, you're right,” Mandy answered seriously. “But I've got plenty of time. It's only a little way.”

  “Mandy, I was only joking. Richard would never give you up. You shouldn't get so worried.”

  “Are you sure?” Mandy asked seeking reassurance, as she still felt, even after the amount of time she had worked for Jameson that her capability in the job was still up for question.

  “Of course I'm sure,” Janus said. “Let me get the bill and we can be on our way.”

  The bill was paid and they left the bar. When they reached the beginning of Museum Street Janus said; “I'm going to catch the tube from Holborn. You alright to make your way back to the office from here?”

  “Of course I am. What kind of person do you take me for?” Mandy answered.

  “Okay then,” Janus said understanding Mandy’s exclamation had been rhetorical; “It's been nice
to talk to you outside of that office. Another time soon, then?” he added.

  “That would be nice, Janus,” Mandy replied. “See you soon.”

  The two friends separated and Janus continued along the road to the underground station.

  While he was walking along High Holborn his mind returned to his manuscript; he was in no doubt that very shortly he would receive a balling from Jameson because his script was still not up to par.

  As there was nothing he could do about his worries he dismissed the notion and pushed his tube ticket into the ticket barrier, then made his way to the platform to catch the train for the first leg of his journey home.

  ***

  As soon as he got into his flat he turned on his computer; he wanted to check his emails. He hoped that there would be another commission or two, to solve problems that could not be ascribed to anything other than the paranormal. However, there were none, not even junk ones.

  Okay, Janus thought to himself, I think it's time I had a holiday.

  He shut down his email software and logged on to the Internet. After an hour of searching he found a suitable short break in Norway, one that included lakes and mountains; somewhere that wasn't crowded, somewhere he could get away and forget everything for a while. He would have to leave this time next week if he was going to benefit from the available prices.

  Although his holiday was seven days away he started the preparations by packing his suitcase with some of the essentials.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Janus was walking back and forth across the small area of lawn which belonged to his flat, mowing it.

  What with no commissions for him to investigate further paranormal phenomena, and his manuscript finished, there was no reason for him to put off the chores he had been avoiding for the last few months.

  As he pushed the mower across the overly long grass he was surprised to find it was one of the most relaxing things he had done in a long time. Listening to the buzz of the electric Flymo and letting his mind wander freely with no grammar or punctuation to correct, no deadlines to hit and just the time to pass before his holiday, it was as if this was a holiday in itself.

  He looked down at his leg, ready to brush the insect from his jeans, but seeing nothing he realised the sensation was being caused by his mobile phone vibrating against his leg. He turned the mower off and took his mobile from his jeans pocket.

  “Janus speaking,” he said.

  “Janus, it's Richard,” his publisher replied.

  “Oh!… Hi, Richard,” Janus said, not expecting a call from his boss.

  “Janus, why haven't you done this before? It's bloody brilliant.”

  “Done what before, Richard? What's bloody brilliant?” Janus said, with no idea what Richard was talking about.

  “Your manuscript, Janus. What else?” Richard responded. “The history, the person,” Richard continued enthusing, “this is just excellent. I'm going to get it out into the bookstores as soon as I possibly can; probably within the next four weeks or so, if the printers can pull their bloody finger out for a change.”

  “That's great news, Richard — you liked it then?”

  “Of course I bloody liked it. What a take. I can certainly say this work will pay dividends. What you've done this time is something new, something that no one else has done, I'm sure. You're a genius,” Jameson finished.

  “So my manuscript was okay then?” Janus repeated, not quite understanding how to interpret what he was being told. He’d never received a call like this before.

  “Of course it's okay. I'm going to call the BBC and ITV. There's certainly a lot more in this than just peculiar happenings. Well done. Don't go away or leave the country; I'm going to ask Amanda to organise a formal dinner at the house for interested parties. You're going to be in big demand you know.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mr Jameson. What do you want me to do now?” Janus asked, stunned.

  “Stay put. I'll call you when necessary.” With that last comment Jameson put the phone down, he was obviously in a rush to organise things.

  Janus was more than surprised; he'd never heard his publisher this excited in all the time he'd been with him. Perhaps this was the break he'd been waiting for, something that would enable him to get to the next level, whatever that was.

  Janus cancelled his plane tickets and reservations; this was not a time to be going away for a rest. Richard had made that abundantly clear during his call.

  ***

  By the time Janus would have been taking in the views Norway had to offer, adverts had started to feature on the commercial radio stations announcing that the best book of its ilk, in a decade, was about to be published.

  A week later huge roadside posters had been put up featuring the cover of the book to be with Janus's name splashed across the posters in four foot high letters.

  Soon after the appearance of the roadside posters and local radio advertisements Mandy had started calling him; she had questions about his availability for spiritualist meetings, book signings, interviews for the newspapers, national and local, plus all other manner of P.R. opportunities.

  Janus's life changed from a quiet and steady pace to a helter-skelter of travel, talks and radio shows; culminating in the publication of his book about Mr Mark Royce and the history of the area the man lived in.

  Richard had insisted that the name of the person referenced in the book be changed but, apart from that, the publication was as Janus had written it.

  Janus was now an in demand, big time author.

  After a few weeks of publicity even the literary critics acclaimed his book as “a melding of contemporary paranormal investigation on a foundation of historical fact.”

  Although extremely busy now, Janus Malik was over the moon, even though this meant that his time was no longer his own. He was being pulled from pillar to post by the demands of his publisher and the people who wanted to talk to him about his book. He didn't resent it one bit. He felt his life had started again from the doldrums it had been in since the split from his wife and the death of his father, which had followed closely behind.

  ***

  During the same week Janus was being pulled from pillar to post a phone began to ring in Darren Brown’s office; but as it was lunch time he was out having a meal with his secretary. The phone continued to ring until one of the salesmen of Brown’s Automotive Services and Sundries in Chorleywood answered the call, from the extension in the showroom.

  “Brown’s Automotive Services and Sundries,” the salesman chirped Mr Brown’s required sales pitch; “How can I be of assistance?”

  “I was just wondering whether you may have finished my car’s service early,” a woman’s voice said.

  “To whom am I speaking?” the salesman requested.

  “Of course, silly me. It’s Mrs Jameson,” the woman responded.

  “Let me just take a short moment to check for you,” the salesman answered and put Mrs Jameson on hold whilst he rang through to the garage’s workshop.

  Todd answered the phone. “Yep,” he said.

  “Is that you, Todd?” the salesman said sneering; he didn’t much like the long haired and tanned temporary mechanic.

  “Yep,” Todd said once more, knowing it would wind up the salesman further. “What d’you want dude?”

  “Todd! I’m not a dude. Just tell me whether you’ve finished working on Mrs Jameson’s car.”

  “It’s not due to be finished until tomorrow,” Todd said, duly adding, “dude” for effect.

  “Todd, is it done or not? And please just answer the question,” the salesman replied, getting more than rather irked by Todd’s crappy attitude.

  “It’s done.”

  “Thank you, Todd,” the salesman said, then thought, you obnoxious toe-rag.

  The salesman reconnected to the external telephone line.

  “I’m very pleased to say, Mrs Jameson, that your car is ready.”

  “I must say your service is excellent,” the wom
an said.

  “We aim to please, Madam,” the salesman smarmed.

  “Would it be possible to pick it up in about thirty minutes?”

  “Most certainly,” the salesman responded. “I’ll make sure all the paper work is complete so you can collect it in half an hour.”

  “Thank you very much,” the woman said. “I’ll make sure my husband hears of this excellent service.”

  “Thank you again, Madam, and just in case you need to know for the future; my name’s Philip,” the salesman said. Finishing his goodbyes he replaced the phone’s receiver.

  ***

  The phone in the Jameson’s house started to ring and Natasha Ericsson, the Jameson’s nanny answered.

  “Hello, the Jameson household,” she said.

  “Hello,” the voice on the other end of the phone started, “Could I speak to Mrs Jameson?”

  “I’m afraid she’s not in at the moment,” Natasha replied.

  “Oh! Okay. Would it be possible to leave a message for her?”

  “Of course,” Natasha said.

  “My name’s Joan and I’m just calling on behalf of Brown’s Automotive Service and Sundries to let Mrs Jameson know that we’ve had to park her car on the road as we’ve had such an influx of late; we just don’t have the space to keep her car on the premises. Could you let her know she can collect it just a little way from our forecourt?”

  “Of course I will.” Natasha said, adding; “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. What was it?”

  “It’s Joan from Brown’s Automotive Services and Sundries,” the woman repeated.

  “Thanks, Joan, I’ll let her know.” Natasha replaced the phone and, making a note of the call on a post-it note, stuck it on the fridge door; it was the place Liz Jameson preferred all telephone messages to go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There were only two days left.

  During the previous week Mandy had rung Janus to inform him that the formal dinner at the Jameson's residence had been arranged, and he ought to make sure he had the appropriate dress for the occasion.