Page 4 - The Devil's Arsonist

Prologue

The aged man sat alone and at the same table and on the very same seat he had occupied
these eight decades past. A glass of his favourite ale lay empty before him, save for the tears
of sadness that now flowed into it from his wizened eyes. He picked up the two-week-old
newspaper, now crumpled and sodden by the anger and misery of his grief; and as he had
done on as many times as the number of years of his long life, he read again and again its
sorrowful tale.

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“Yesterday [11 December] at about eight o’clock in the evening, emergency services were
called to the scene of a horrific car crash that took place near Wetherden in Suffolk. A police
spokesperson told our reporter, that the car, belonging to Dr. William Gilderiche, 44, an
Architectural Historian from Woodham Ferrers, Essex had hit a tree and burst into flames,
causing the vehicle to be burnt almost beyond recognition. According to the owner of his
local garage, Mr. Eddie Jones, the car was believed to be a 1905 vintage Rover, recently
restored by Dr. Gilderiche. Mr. Jones added that “if it were mine, I would never drive it, it
should be in a museum, it’s a danger to other road users”. The spokesperson went on to say
that despite an extensive search of the area, no trace could be found of the driver or his
companion, who is believed to be Mrs. Elisabeth Songster, 42, a divorcee from Finchingfield.
Police are appealing for any witnesses to come forward, who might be able to help them with
their ongoing enquiries.”

He then reached into the pocket of his threadbare jacket that never once held money for his
ale; and from it pulled out an unopened letter stained brown not with age but by Ridley’s
finest brew. On its envelope was written his name alone, penned in a hand he knew so well. It
would tell of all that he feared. His friend’s death was no mere accident. He alone did end
their present life; with his beloved at his side; whilst returning to the only place they ever
truly belonged.

I am now ready to make my confession before my Lord God.

Despite the great and many horrific crimes I have committed, for which I freely admit my
guilt, I am yet, still free to walk this Earth with impunity. I have never been found guilty of
any crime, nor convicted by any court of the same or even suspected of any complicity in
them. And in many cases my acts were done on the lawful orders of others, whether it be by
church or state. I did not care, for I was sanctioned by them to commit evil, in the name of
God or as an act of war. But to me, it was still wrong, as it was in the eyes of my Saviour, the
Lord Jesus Christ. I have gone against each and every one of the decalogue of
commandments, passed down to us from Mount Sinai, by Moses himself; which became the
very means and reason why I avoided the justice, which I at long last now do crave.

I must at last repent of all my sins. I have finally broken the shackles of my evil. I have done
what I was told I must do. I have prayed for forgiveness for the terrible sin I committed on
that fateful day at Aldham Common. It was here that I condemned the first of my victims to
be consumed by the fire of hatred that burned bright within my heart. This pious cleric was