The Temple by Brian Smith

here for the night and I can threaten Jeremiah
with having your help he’ll have no choice but to pay up.”
    “That’s what you thought, is it?
And did you think about what’s in it for me? Why should I help you
get rich?”
    “We’ll share the money, of
course. I’ll give you ten percent.”
    Judas laughed. “Ten what? You’re
not serious. If I help you to blackmail Jeremiah I’m getting fifty
percent.”
    James looked shocked. “But I did
all the work helping Jeremiah to get the info on the people and I’m
bringing this to you…”
    “Hey, the first thing is between
you and Jeremiah. I don’t care. If I’m helping you with this
business I want half. There’s no way I’m taking less. Why, I’m
taking as much risk as you, James. Blackmail is blackmail if the
police catch us. You’d better be fair and square with me,” he added
threateningly.
    James hesitated. “All right,
half. “
    Judas grinned and shook his
hand. “Here’s to a good partnership. Let’s work together on this
and there’ll be nothing Jeremiah can do about it. Anyway, here’s
the phone. We might as well start now.”
     
    An hour later James was alone.
Judas was out to meet a journalist. James sat on the old sofa
dreaming about his new life. The opulent mansion Jeremiah had
bought with the money of so many gullible believers was etched into
his mind and had swept away years of religious teachings and
abstention. If anything, James discovered that he held some very
deep cravings for luxury and enjoyment of life that did not include
prayers, drooling or slaving away for the master of the temple.
Like someone who has just crossed a desert he had a strong thirst
for all the things he had denied himself for so long. He imagined
himself the proud owner of a large villa with a vast garden and
pool, or even better a seaside mansion with its own pier at which
his private yacht lay waiting for him, how he would be surrounded
by friends and beautiful women eager for his attention. In fact,
the wishes in his reverie were getting so big and extravagant that
even years of defrauding gullible believers wouldn’t have been
enough to pay for everything.
    The doorbell rang.
    James glanced at his watch.
“That was quick,” he said. “I thought Judas would take longer.
Maybe he forgot his keys…”
    He went to open the door. The
moment he opened it he was pushed back violently and the four young
brethren who had left the temple a bit earlier rushed inside.
    “You filthy traitor,” one of
them yelled when the door was shut again and punched James in the
face. James fell backwards and hit the floor hard.
    “You got it all wrong,” James
called. “It’s Jeremiah. He’s cheating and…”
    A savage kick at his head made
him curl up. Blows and kicks landed thick and heavy as he tried to
protect his head by wrapping his arms around it. While James
suffered on the floor one of the brethren made a quick search of
the flat. In the kitchen his eye fell on the very thing he needed –
a large chopper. He grabbed it and dashed to James. In a blind fury
he yanked James’ head back and began chopping at his neck. James
yelled in agony. Several strokes later his head was severed. The
young brother lifted it up triumphantly and looked at the face. The
eyes and mouth were wide open in horror.
    “A traitor’s death for a vile
rat,” he said with a grim satisfaction. He tossed the head on the
floor and the four brethren walked away. The body on the floor
twitched a few times and then lay still. Only the bright red blood
kept gushing out. The gory stain on the carpet spread out in all
directions.
    When the four brethren returned
to the temple they went straight to Jeremiah’s office and told him
what they had done. He breathed a sigh of relief.
    “At least there’s someone I can
trust,” he said. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the country
for a while. The police are bound to come here when they
investigate and it’s better if they can’t