The dark side of my soul (4 page)

“Julie’s pretty.” I said, the laughter having broken the ice.

“Yeah” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “And she’s red hot in bed.”

“Can she hear us?”

“No, she’ll be on the computer now, spends hours on the damned thing.”

“Good, because there is something that I want to tell you, it’s just between you and me. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know.” I had made my decision. I was going to tell David the whole story and so, slowly at first, I began.

I told him everything from the very beginning and when I had finished I felt better. It was good to get it off my chest, it felt like a massive relief but David sat stone still, looking at me with a strange expression that I couldn’t quite make out. His right eye jiggled about more than usual. It only did that when he was agitated or worried.

We sat like that in silence for a moment or two before he reached out to take a sip from his rapidly cooling coffee. He still never spoke. It must have been nearly a full minute before he broke the spell then with his coffee mug still in his hand he said “Poor Sandra, she must feel terrible.”

“Yes she does” I confirmed.

He seemed to think about that for a moment. “Of course there is only one thing you can do.” He lowered his head so that he was looking at me through his big bushy eyebrows. “You have to make her go to the authorities.”

“I have tried. She won’t do that.”

David sighed heavily. “Then you have to change her mind. You have to persuade her to go to the police.”

“It’s too late for that now.”

“No, no, it’s never too late to do the right thing.”

“I can’t change her mind, not now.”

David returned his coffee to the table then gazed at me with a stern look in his good eye whilst his other eye danced around wildly. I had never seen it jerk about so much. It was almost comical but I knew I dare not laugh.

“Look, if Sandra does not go to the police, does not accept responsibility for her actions then you will both pay for it for the rest of your lives. You will both have to live with the guilt. It will be an unbearable weight on your shoulders and in the end it will drag you down, ruin your lives. I know you don’t believe in God but believe me the Lord will find a way to punish you, to make you suffer for what you have done.”

“But I haven’t done anything” I pointed out.

“Sandra has killed another human being and you are helping her avoid justice. As sure as we are sitting here the Lord will punish you.”

“Come on, it was an accident and as you say I don’t believe in God.” My relief at having told David the truth had quickly evaporated and was now already replaced with regret.

His voice grew louder and with a raised hand and pointed finger he began to preach. “You may not believe but that does not matter. The Lord will punish you in some way. He always does. Tell me why you have come to see me. It was to share your burden of guilt was it not? If you were a believer you could have turned to God and he would have shared that burden and told you what to do. He would have guided you.”

I realised that David’s religious beliefs had become far more extreme, he had never preached at me in this way before, never been this fanatical and I wondered how sexy Julie fitted into the picture. Was she a religious nut too? Somehow I doubted it. “I think I’d better make a move.” I said standing.

David tried a different approach. “Look, forget religion, I am trying to help you. Why don’t you let me come around and have a word with Sandra? Maybe I can persuade her to go to the police. I know she is a good woman and that the accident was probably not her fault but she must tell the authorities. I am sure they will be very understanding and it will be such a weight off her conscience.”

“No, she doesn’t know that I have come to see you. You can’t tell her.”

“You see, you are already keeping secrets from her. This is what will happen. Your lives will descend into a web of lies and deceit. You are both good people. Don’t get dragged down into evil ways. The Lord will punish you. The Lord will come down upon you and make your life hell. The Lord will………”

I couldn’t help but show my irritation. I shouted at him. “Don’t keep going on about the Lord. You know I think it is all mumbo jumbo.”

David sighed. “Yes, we never did agree over religion did we?” He stood up and I noticed that it was something of an effort for him to lever his bulky frame out of the chair. “I suppose we shall have to agree to disagree as usual. Are you sure you don’t want me to come and see Sandra? I’m sure I could help.”

I regretted yelling at him. He was only doing what he considered best to help so in a more conciliatory tone I replied. “No, I’m sure we’ll be able to sort it out. Thanks anyway.”

David grimaced but patted me on the shoulder, “come on, I’ll give you a lift home in Julie’s new toy outside. Did you see it, the Mercedes?”

“Yes I did.” I wanted to say that I’d much prefer Julie to give me the ride home but I smiled and thanked him and he went to get the keys while I put on my shoes.

On the way home he was back to his old self and we were friends once more but he did make me promise to consider what he had said. He dropped me at my front door and with only a brief wave sped off down the lane. I watched him go, knowing that he would see the notices by the side of the road asking for any witnesses to the accident to come forward. He wasn’t quite the same old David that I remembered anymore. Something had changed him and I bitterly regretted having told him about Sandra’s accident but there was nothing I could do about that now.

Four

Our trip to Burnley turned out better than expected. We left home at about seven o’clock in the evening and drove through the night and with no rain, snow or fog to hamper our progress we made good time. After ten the roads emptied of traffic and I found the drive surprisingly relaxing and enjoyable. Sandra had pre-warned the hotel that we would not be arriving until very late, so when we drew up at a little before one in the morning it presented no problem.

Our room was clean and comfortable, if a little old fashioned and the breakfasts each morning were amazing. The wide selection of food on offer at dinner surprised me and the variety and quality of the wine list surpassed all expectations. Even Jimmy, The repair shop owner was not as dour as he sounded on the telephone, although he did make something of a drama of counting and checking every note of the money that I gave him. He did the job in two days and his work was admirable. When he had finished you could not tell that the car had been damaged at all.

We stayed on an extra day until the Sunday as the accommodation had already been booked and set out after another hearty breakfast feeling quite refreshed after our three day break.

Although cold, the weather had been fine the whole time, allowing us to take long meandering walks over the nearby moors and sample some local beers in the public houses that we stumbled upon along the way. The locals had been welcoming and friendly adding to the enjoyment of our visit and it was almost with regret that we left for home.

“I really enjoyed the last three days. I must admit I wasn’t expecting much and it was a real pleasant surprise.” Sandra said as we headed south. “But wouldn’t it be ironic if we smashed the car now. It would all have been for nothing.”

I don’t know, maybe she said it because I was driving too fast but it certainly made me think and I slowed down considerably. It took a little longer returning than it did going but even with an hour stopover and our steadier progress we still arrived home at four o’clock in the afternoon.

With the car fully repaired we had no need to have to squeeze it into the garage so we left it on the drive in its usual place and went straight inside the house. Sandra dropped her small suitcase in the hall, turned to me and flung her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you, thank you” she said as she hugged me. I held her tight.

David was wrong. I didn’t feel any guilt and I don’t think Sandra did either, after all it was just an accident. She hadn’t maliciously tried to kill the woman and it could be argued that in a way it was the old lady’s own fault for stepping out in the road without looking. That, I know, was an awful way of considering it but it was all in the past now and I was thankful it was over. There was no longer any proof to connect us with the accident. We could forget about it once and for all and move on with our lives. Then the telephone rang.

Five

I let go of Sandra and picked up the receiver from the little table next to where I was standing. “Hello” I said almost carelessly but was met with only silence.

When the caller eventually spoke it was with a strange strained tone, as though he was trying to disguise his voice.

“Is that Mister Conrad, Harry Conrad?”

“Yes,” I replied, still unconcerned.

After another delay the person spoke again in the odd artificial tone. The words came very slowly. “We know what you did, what your wife did. We were very close. We saw everything. We saw her car hit the old lady. We saw the old woman’s body fly over the roof of the car and land on the road with her head split open and pouring blood. We saw your wife drive off. We were behind the hedge. We saw everything. I can give you your car registration number.” The man read out the number slowly and carefully. “We saw it all happen. Your wife had been drinking so she didn’t stop. We could go to the police and she would go to prison.”

I was stunned “Who the hell is this?” I shouted down the phone. Sandra had gone to the kitchen and was putting the kettle on.

“It doesn’t matter who we are. All that matters is what we know. I don’t want to go to the police and send your wife to prison, to ruin your lives by bringing hurt and shame on the pair of you, but I will, we will, two witnesses.”

“What do you want?” My throat was dry, I could hardly speak and the words didn’t come easily.

“Seventy five grand”

“What, seventy five thousand pounds, you must be joking. I don’t have that much money.

“Maybe not but you can get it, if you don’t want your wife to go to prison that is.”

“No I don’t have that much and I can’t get it.” Sandra had come out of the kitchen and was watching me. She realised something was wrong.

“You’ll find a way. We’ll be in touch, tell you where and when to leave the money. We’ll call later tonight.” The line went dead and I immediately tried to get the number of the last caller. I was only rewarded with ‘number withheld’ and I slammed the receiver down with a crash.

“Who was that?” Sandra asked a little shakily.

“Some guy who recons he saw you hit the woman. He’s trying to blackmail us.”

Sandra’s face almost crumpled before my eyes. “That’s impossible. No one was near.”

“He said two of them were behind the hedge. They saw everything.”

“Then why didn’t they come forward at the time? Why didn’t they go and help the woman rather than just stand and watch?”

“Who’s to say they didn’t, after you left. You drove off, remember.” That was a cheap shot and I immediately regretted it.

“No, there was nobody else around. I am sure of it. Did I hear you say they wanted seventy five thousand pounds?”

I nodded, still stunned. We stood in silence facing each other. In the kitchen the kettle boiled then switched itself off, the only remaining sound the ticking of the grandfather clock.

So it wasn’t over. The past had come back to haunt us just as David said it would.

“They called the moment we got in. They must have been watching the house.” Sandra ran to look out of the front room window.

I followed her and arrived by her side a moment later but the street outside was devoid of life. “They may not have been watching, why would they? They didn’t know when we were coming back. More likely they were calling every day and today they caught us as we arrived.”

“We haven’t got that much money.” Sandra said plaintively.

“We could probably just about raise it if we cashed in all our savings bonds but I am not paying them. It’s our life savings. We can’t just give it away.”

The telephone rang again and we both froze in horror as though it was some primeval beast come to do us harm. “Don’t answer it.” Sandra said.

It kept ringing, insistent. “We have to. These people aren’t going to go away.” This time I picked up the receiver carefully as though it was red hot. “Yes” I said harshly.

“Hello Harry. It’s Archie, from the golf club. I wondered if you’d be interested in playing a round of golf with me on Tuesday. My regular partner’s twisted his ankle and one of the guys said that you sometimes played on Tuesdays. I have booked the day off work and I don’t want to waste it. The tee time is booked for nine thirty.”

I was about to say no, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for sport then I remembered that Archie Haines was a police detective. He was in his early thirties, athletic and a damned good golfer but what was more to the point was that he would probably have first-hand information about the progress of the investigation into the hit and run incident. On the spur of the moment I agreed.

Sandra had returned to the kitchen and by the time I got to her side she was making the tea.

“Who was that?” she asked. “Was it them?”

“No it was Archie, at the golf club. I’ve agreed to play with him on Tuesday.”

Anger coloured her face. “We are facing the worst crisis we have had since we got married and all you do is go off and play bloody golf.” Sandra never liked me playing golf. As far as she was concerned it was a day wasted when I could have been slogging away at the computer, earning money.

I tried to calm her. “I’m not interested in the golf. Archie, who just called is a police Inspector. He may be able to give me some information on how their enquiries into, well you know, your incident are progressing.”

“Oh.” Sandra poured tea out of the pot. Her hand was shaking. She had made two identical cups and replaced the teapot on its stand. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little jumpy from that other call.”

I pulled her around to face me. “I know, but listen, I don’t think these people these blackmailers are professionals. They’re just a couple of chancers who happened to have seen the accident and think it’s a good way to make some quick cash.”

“They didn’t see anything. No one was anywhere near.” She protested.

“All right, but just suppose for a minute someone was behind the hedge. The chances are that they are just a couple of kids. We may be able to call their bluff and get away with it.”

The grey haunted look was back in her eyes. “I told you, I was alone. Nobody could have seen what happened.”

“You can’t be sure of that, you don’t know for certain.”

“I do. The hedge that runs along by the field is very low. If anyone was on the other side I would have seen them.”

“Look, you were in a state of shock. You probably just didn’t notice anything other than the woman that you had hit.”

“No,” She shook her head. “There was no one.”

“Then how do these people know what happened?”

“I don’t know. The truth is we don’t know who they are. I think we have to be very careful.”

As usual she had a point but their call had sounded rehearsed, as though they were reading from a script. I felt sure they were amateurs just trying their luck. I pulled her to me and held her close.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get through this,” I said but I didn’t feel anywhere near as confident as I sounded.

At eight o’clock that evening we sat in the lounge and picked at a pizza. Although we had not eaten since breakfast neither of us were hungry. The television was on but we weren’t really watching it. All we were doing was waiting for the next call from the blackmailers. It could come at any time and until then our lives were on hold.

The phone rang at twenty past eight. I had brought it into the lounge and left it on the arm of the settee on which I was sitting. Sandra sat on another armchair across the room. We both stared at the phone, letting it ring for a while before I answered. When I did it was the same strange disguised voice that I had heard before.

“You’ve got a week to get the money. No extensions, no excuses, we want it all by next Saturday or we go to the police. We’ll tell you where and when to leave it in our next call. We’ll call again on Friday evening to give you the final details.”

“Wait, I can’t get that much by then. I can only get some of it by Saturday.”

“In that case we’ll go to the police.”

“No you won’t. If you go to the police you’ll get nothing at all. Something is better than nothing.” I could almost hear the caller’s indecision and I could imagine the two people at the other end of the line looking at each other and wondering what to do. The delay in the reply made me ever more certain that I was dealing with amateurs.

“This is not open for negotiation. We want the full amount or we go to the police. We’ll call you Friday night to make the final arrangements.”