Ricky Roskov

  Book 17

  Copyright © Geoff Wolak

  This book is a work of fiction, technically accurate in the detail of geographical locations, and the time period history. It is young adult romance, conspiracy and murder-mystery.

  Rene Maskal-Leopold

  At my front door, I took in the teenage boy in his ill-fitting suit jacket as he stood in the cold, the boy flanked now by two local police officers. ‘It’s OK, officers, I was expecting him, just … not in the middle of the night.’

  The boy replied, ‘Well it took bleeding ages to find out where you lived, and every time I asked someone they either threatened to go to the police or threatened to hit me.’

  ‘That’s … good to know,’ I commended with a nod.

  ‘But this old drunk on a park bench knew where you were.’

  My eyes widened. ‘An old drunk told you where I lived?’ I loudly queried.

  ‘Yeah, offered me a drink as well.’

  ‘Officers, round up all the old drunks and shoot them for me.’

  ‘Didn’t know there was any left on the streets,’ a tall officer put in. ‘They’re all in your places.’

  ‘Missed one, the important one, telling strangers where I live.’ I waved the boy inside. ‘I can handle this, officers, he won’t be any trouble. Thanks.’

  Door closed, Pat and Dingle frisked the kid to some loud complaints, and then offered to shoot the kid.

  I told my trusty yet grumpy bodyguards, ‘Go to bed, guys, and sorry to wake you like that. Go on, get some rest.’

  They left me with Leo, who stood looking like he was off for his first job interview after finishing school. I got the kettle on, but then extended a hand to shake.

  He puzzled the hand, then shook, and the images popped up, not least the cavern in Corsica.

  ‘How much do you know?’ I asked him.

  ‘Know about … what?’ he puzzled.

  ‘OK, that’s not a good start. How much do you know about your past lives?’

  ‘Me what?’

  ‘Ah … bollocks, this could take a while.’ I heaved a breath and rubbed my forehead as I considered what to do. ‘Have you ever had any strange dreams about a hot island like Corsica, dressed funny, sailing in old ships, fighting against Broderic?’

  ‘Are you gunna start making some sense like?’

  I heaved a sigh. ‘Stand still, don’t move.’ I placed a hand on his forehead, closed my eyes, and I imagined him sat in the haunted house and staring into the fire, and getting his memories back. The heat built in my hand and then faded, and I stepped back.

  He was now stood staring out of focus, so I left him, cups of tea made quietly, and I sipped mine quietly as I waited.

  He finally turned to me. ‘I … I was in another place, an old house, cosy fire like, some big weird statue of an angel.’

  He now sounded older, and more mature. ‘And … I could see things, how I lived before … and … you were there, and the man from the movie you made, the Evil Twins. What … what the fuck does that mean?’

  ‘It means that you were born again into this body, having lived many times before, and it means that your real name is Rene Maskal-Leopold, and that we each fought against Broderic in Corsica, during the Crusades.

  ‘It means … that you’re not just a nobody teenager called Leo, you’re special, you’re due some money, and that you have a destiny.’

  ‘Oh. So when you say that I’m due some money … me mum is in arrears on the rent like.’

  ‘That will be taken care of, I’ll buy her a nice new house.’

  ‘Really. Shit …’ His brow pleated. ‘But why?’

  ‘You’re a bit slow, aren’t you,’ I complained.

  He shrugged.

  ‘You were reincarnated.’

  ‘Like what they said about you?’

  ‘Yes, only that you lived longer than me and are … senior to me in some respects. And you’ll soon meet an angel for a chat.’

  ‘An angel?’

  ‘You do know what an angel is?’ I pressed.

  ‘Big wings, floats around and sings…’

  ‘Yes, one of them, you dull cunt.’ My brow pleated as he shot me a look. ‘But without the … singing.’

  I had an idea, and I thought I might have a clue how to open up his memories. ‘Close your eyes. Go on.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Imagine being in a huge underground cavern, stone houses, old wooden houses, people oddly dressed in olden times cooking food, looking after the goats, and then you see me there.’

  He took several seconds, perhaps ten, but then finally opened his eyes and stared at me. ‘Richard of Charmaine!’ He glanced around the room. ‘Is My Lady here?’

  ‘Thank fuck for that, we’ve tuned-in the TV to the right channel at last! Welcome back, Leopold. And my lady is a baby in Italy, born again. And you … you’re but a youth.’ I pointed him towards the mirror, wondering why I now sounded like Richard of Charmaine in the year thirteen hundred.

  He stared into the mirror in shock. ‘Dear God, I am but a youth again.’

  ‘Yes, but now safe, and in my charge, soon to get all of your memories back.’

  I heard the footsteps, and Laz appeared from the lounge, soon rudely looking Leo over, as if he did not approve.

  ‘Come!’ He led Leo into the lounge, where the old unused fire burst into life, shocking Leo. Luckily, the curtains were now closed and the MI5 camera sat in the hallway. ‘Sit, and look into the flames.’

  I nudged Leo down, and he sat staring into the flames as I left the room and grabbed my cup of tea. Biscuits opened, and I waited, giving the two of them some time.

  Twenty minutes later and Leo walked in, no sign of Laz, and he sat, so I made him a fresh cup of tea and waited. He finally began, staring into the tea, ‘I remember it all, but … I’m still me, Leo, a kid from school like.’

  He now sounded older, and I felt sorry for him, his best years cruelly stolen from him, and I could see myself at that age, and see what innocence I had quickly lost. My chest heaved a sigh as I reflected on what might have been, signing up for a football career.

  ‘You and me, we … both lost our innocence and had to grow up quickly. But it was done for a good reason, to help mankind, and … to fight a few people that need a good kick in the balls.’

  ‘If I … go fight in some hot land,’ came in a weak voice, ‘can someone take care of Mum?’

  ‘She’ll be well taken care of, don’t worry, but you’re a bit too young to go fight just yet. You have some time. But … how well did you do in school?’

  ‘Not well at all, I spent all my time playing football, got a signing to Watford Juniors next year, same as you did.’

  ‘You’ll have a job with me when you turn sixteen, which is when?’

  ‘A week away.’

  ‘So you’ll have that job, and a shit load of studying to do, but the young Leo may benefit from the old Leo’s knowledge.’ I grabbed a book that I had been storing for a while, which I still had not studied myself, and I showed it to him. ‘Can you read that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You can?’ I puzzled.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘No of course … to me, it’s fucking Latin!’

  ‘Is it?’ he puzzled.

  ‘Yes, you dope.’ Next I grabbed from the shelf an English-French dictionary. ‘Can you read that?’

  ‘Yeah, can’t you?’

  ‘No, because it’s in French.’

  ‘Is it?’ he puzzled.

  ‘You have the minds of two people sat in your tiny brain, but you’ll get used to it.’

  ‘So how many people are sat in your bloody brain like?’

  ‘Ten or more, past lives remembered – and painfully remembered with it.’

  ‘Oh. So how come you make so much money?’ he asked.

  ‘Good looks, talent, and the fact that I’m the chosen one … destined to do something interesting and not just sit in and watch TV of an evening.’

  ‘And me dad?’

  ‘Was - and is - an angel, but one that doesn’t give a fuck about you, or anyone else, we’re just apes to him. Your birth mother was not made pregnant by him, and I don’t know why she named him.’

  ‘She drinks a lot, and mumbles, and when she’s drunk she says some odd things like you, about destiny and angels and shit.’

  ‘I’ll meet her soon, and buy her a drink and find out. But what she mumbles is the truth. And your dad, he … tried hard to trip you up and get you killed, because you were a disappointment to him – in your past lives.

  ‘You see, the angels in general, and your father – Gabrial – in particular, think that conflict is good for mankind, starting wars, causing chaos, because then people are tested properly and pushed, not sat in watching the TV.

  ‘If we build a bridge and it’s not very good he’ll make it collapse, people on it at the time. If we design a plane and it’s not brilliant he’ll crash the plane, with people on it, till we design a better plane.

  ‘And part of me agrees with that, that we should design a better and safer plane, yes, but Gabrial’s attitude is more than just about being a Health and Safety Inspector, he genuinely hates us apparently and thinks we’re no better than apes down from the trees.

  ‘When he crashes the plane he grins, he’s not sad about the loss of life, the women and kids killed. He seems to despise us, and … he knows that I’m special so he wants me and my team dead.

  ‘And you, when he knows you’re alive again, you’ll annoy
him greatly just by breathing.’ I could see the anger behind the eyes.

  ‘Am I allowed to shoot the fucker?’

  ‘You are, for the good of mankind and your mum, because he would see her and you both dead.’

  ‘So where do I find him?’ he angrily asked.

  ‘He’ll find you at some point, but after I teach you how to hurt him.’

  ‘And this funny old guy here?’ he asked.

  ‘Is also an angel, but one that cares and helps, name of Laz-ah-roz. But he’s also … grumpy and short-tempered, and rude. He appears in human form, but that’s not his real form.’

  ‘And the police and the government…’

  ‘Don’t know about me, nor about angels, and we’ll try and keep it that way.’

  ‘All them treasures you found…’

  ‘I hid many of them myself, almost a thousand years ago, and some were hidden with me in mind – that I find them and use the money for something useful.’

  ‘Like them nursing homes.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Me gran went into one, and I wouldn’t have put a dog in that smelly fucking place!’

  ‘Now you sound like me,’ I quipped. ‘Anyway, it’s late, and you need some rest. And I need some rest as well, and my grumpy bodyguards will be grumpy in the morning.’

  I fetched blankets for him, a clean t-shirt, and I pointed him towards the sofa. But oddly enough the fire was still burning. ‘Get some rest, but stare into the flames as well. Don’t make a noise or wander about, you’ll get shot.

  ‘Oh, and I can read your mind, heal you when sick, and I sense danger a long way off, and … can do a lot of stuff that I’ll explain at some point.’

  ‘Can you heal my mum?’

  ‘Generally yes, but … I don’t know about alcohol addiction. Maybe when she has some money she’ll be better. Where’s home?’

  ‘Council house in Wembley, a right shit hole.’

  ‘Does she have friends close by?’

  ‘Not any more, no, the drink did that.’

  ‘Then she can have a place up here, a job, you with her.’

  ‘That might be better, yeah.’

  ‘Look at the flames, but try and get some rest after.’

  Back in bed, the bedroom door left open slightly, I lay there thinking of what he might do to assist us, given his age, his physical age. But at least I could ask him about the history of events in Corsica, and what else he knew about Gabrial.

  The carbon copy

  I woke when I heard voices, my bedroom door still ajar, but they were not raised voices or angry voices. Dressed after a shower, I found Leo in the kitchen chatting to Pat and Dingle about soccer.

  ‘At least you never shot him,’ I told Pat.

  ‘He could be a pro for Watford,’ Pat enthused.

  I made myself tea and toast, Bill and Ted arriving at 9am and puzzling “the kid”. I told them, ‘May I introduce … Rene Maskal-Leopold.’

  Their eyes widened.

  ‘Really?’ Bill gasped.

  ‘Yes, and his father was some scoundrel called Gabrial apparently.’

  ‘His father?’ Ted puzzled.

  I nodded at him but added nothing else.

  When Pat and Dingle went to check their car, Ted handed Leo one of the small golden crucifixes, and it glowed brightly.

  ‘Why the fuck does it glow?’ Leo puzzled.

  ‘It’s special gold that only glows for reincarnated people,’ I explained. ‘But it would hurt Gabrial if he got close to it.’

  Ted took it back before anyone saw it glowing.

  Leo stared at the table for a few seconds. ‘In the cavern, the stone house, the floor, something hidden there.’

  Exchanging a look with Bill, I quickly lifted my phone and called Donno, and Donno would soon be on his way to the cavern with a team, anyone they met there to be kicked out for a while – on my say so.

  Up in my bedroom I called Gloria on her mobile.

  ‘Ricky?’

  ‘Yes, and I have a surprise for you. Downstairs, alive and well, is a certain Rene Maskal-Leopold.’

  ‘You … what?’

  ‘Born again, and in the body of a fifteen-year-old lad from Wembley in London.’

  ‘We need that family tree!’

  ‘He’s the one to draw it for you! You can meet him soon.’

  Pat and Dingle returned, so we set off for the offices, Leo in tow. At the offices I introduced Leo to the main players, and he would shadow Bonza and study the empire, and since they had the same mental age they would be a good fit.

  But I had warned Leo not to talk openly about things, with anyone, without checking with me first.

  In my own office, sat with Lucas and my secretary and a fresh cup of tea, David Hutton stepped in.

  David began, ‘Your radio shows caused a shit load of newspaper inches and TV comments.’

  ‘About which topic?’ I puzzled.

  ‘Death with dignity to start, a loud debate and mixed, in that we can’t be seen to be putting anyone down like a dog - but that everyone asked would prefer the right to die and not be like Mavis and suffer.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Brilliant.’

  ‘A few newspapers are running surveys, be interesting to see what they come up with. And the police are being lambasted from all sides for keeping people awake in cells.’

  ‘Good, some progress.’

  ‘You may not be popular with the police, they may try and shoot you. Again. The AIDS hospice has received lots of praise, and the Prime Minister has already suggested that he’ll cooperate fully and fund it.’

  ‘Good to know - to know that he has a cynical eye on the upcoming election and his ratings.’

  ‘And a few newspapers showed images of various towns’ High Streets in decay. Oh, and the media in Ireland got savaged, and now they admit that they were pressured to stay quiet, a few resignations seen.’

  ‘And the priests?’ I nudged.

  ‘The Vatican sacked the men on the list, here and Ireland - thirty-five priests, and they even named them. Twenty-four suicides already from that group, and four of those still alive were arrested here.’

  ‘Good, a few high-profile hangings.’

  ‘Uh … we don’t hang people anymore.’

  ‘No? Bugger,’ I joked.

  ‘The Coventry Holiday Camp will have Home Office inspectors up there today, to see if it can handle Cat C&D end of sentence men.’

  I nodded.

  ‘And we grabbed the place near Birmingham Airport, which could hold five hundred men.’

  ‘I was thinking, that we add a women’s wing to the airfield soft prison…’

  ‘It’s needed, there are very few places for women offenders in Britain.’

  ‘So tell the architect to add on a building, split into three sections, room for three hundred women.’

  ‘The Home Office says that our definition of soft prison needs looking at, since Grafton Road is High Security cleared and so will the airfield be, but not Max Security. So we can handle most of the bad boys.’

  I nodded at that. ‘To start with I want the local repeat offenders locked up, but where we can we’ll take the pressure off the existing prison system.’

  He responded, ‘The airfield will be able to handle five thousand men, and with bunkbeds … twice that.’

  ‘We’ll test it first, but if we have ten thousand men the margin is better.’

  ‘The margin will be excellent with that many men!’ Lucas enthused.

  I faced David. ‘Have the medium category building there fitted with bunkbeds, and the ladies’ section. And with the ladies … make it big enough to hold a thousand - there are just as many lady junkies and shoplifters these days.’

  Bill stepped in. ‘Had a call from Blackpool Council, and can we help please.’

  ‘Blackpool is suffering?’ I puzzled.

  ‘It has a posh area, and a shit area, and high unemployment. These days, people fly to Spain for a holiday, not visit rainy grey Blackpool. And it’s pigging huge, and with a high density of pensioners in poverty.’

  ‘Find a charity there to work with, recruit the visitors, start a register, get us some stats. Then get an estate agent over there and make a start on shitty old properties. But get me some stats soon, and an expert to talk to.’

  Bill informed me, ‘We’ve hired the support staff for the AIDS hospice, and we’ll have a warehouse, a shop and pharmacy onsite, and we hired an odd-jobs man, plus two grounds keepers, four security staff.’