The 13th Destiny_Heaven's Deadliest Sign

by Roger David Francis

  “Did the woman die, Charles, the one you ran over?” Lydia watched his face crumple.

  “How do I know? The police didn’t say.”

  “If she was lying unconscious shouldn’t you at least have phoned for an ambulance?”

  “What is this, Lyd, twenty questions? I should have done a lot of things but I didn’t. Look, I’d had a drink, only one but you know what the police are like, they’d label me a drunken driver, out of control. This would be the third time and if you add manslaughter to it I could go down for a very long time. Christ, Lyd, what am I going to do, you have to help me.” He was almost wringing his hands together.

  “So where were you really coming from?”

  “What?”

  “I said, where were you really coming from, Charles?” Lydia smiled and nodded her head encouragingly. Tell me, you sneaky bastard, she thought, say it. Tell me you were shagging your latest whore, after all, that’s no worse than running over some poor pedestrian, is it?

  For at least a minute he stood staring at her, his mouth working. Finally he said, “You know, don’t you?”

  Lydia didn’t answer; the sick feeling inside growing stronger. She’d wanted to find out and now here it was, the big confession. At that moment she thought she’d never hated anyone as much as she hated her husband. He was fifty years old, managing to keep the small rolls of unwanted fat tucked inside his shirt, hiding the growing patch of balding hair by combing over it and right now quivering like a scared child. And she was his alibi.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what, Charles?” A small familiar voice echoed in the back of her head, “I wish to know who my husband’s having an affair with,” and Lydia thought, did I really ask that, what was I thinking? I really don’t want to know, I don’t want my life to be blown apart, changed forever. But her husband was frightened now, babbling, and the words were oozing out of his mouth as if he couldn’t stop them.

  “I made a mistake, Lyd; I couldn’t stop loving her, I tried but in the end I gave in. I’ve been seeing her for six months.”

  Lydia closed her eyes. Even though she’d thought it was a possibility Charles was cheating on her she never expected him to admit it. So unexpected was the confession, the words left her stunned. Her husband couldn’t stop loving her? How long had it been going on? She couldn’t grasp the meaning.

  “You’ve been seeing another woman?” the words left her mouth sounding hollow and unbelievable.

  “I know I should have told you. All those years ago, I thought I’d never see her again, that she was out of my life forever and then she contacted me on Facebook I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, Lyd.”

  And all at once Lydia thought she understood. Charles was talking about his daughter, Rebecca, the little girl he’d abandoned all those years ago when he’d left his girlfriend, Nancy, to bring their daughter up alone because he’d had fallen madly in love with Lydia. He’d never once mentioned her, not even wondered out loud how she was, and neither had Lydia. Rebecca was his baggage and best left her in the past with the rest of his youthful misdemeanours. Now Lydia thought he was telling her he’d been meeting up with her, renewing their father daughter relationship. She shivered with relief. I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, she thought. I’m sorry, Charles, I’ll make it up to you, lie for you even, it’s the least I can do.

  Charles was watching her strangely, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t believe what he’d said and wished he could take it back.

  “You’re talking about Rebecca, aren’t you? You should have told me, I would have understood.”

  She stared into his stricken surprised face and felt a jolt of fury as his eyes slid sideways.

  “That’s right,” he mumbled, “Rebecca, my daughter.”

  You bloody liar, Lydia screamed inside her head. She’d just handed him a way out and he’d taken it. She couldn’t believe she’d been so blindsided. Keeping her voice steady, Lydia said, “I didn’t know you’d been looking for her, you shouldn’t have kept it a secret, Charles.” She smiled to keep the sting out of her words, bitter bile rising in her throat.

  “Yes, I know. You can see why I need you to back me up though, can’t you? What would the poor girl think of her father if she found out I’d been involved in a hit and run?” Charles’s over bright eyes flickered from side to side. He still couldn’t stop jiggling on his feet, a sure sign he was lying.

  The poor girl he was referring to was a thirty year old woman who probably hadn’t given Charles a passing thought in years. The bastard standing in front of her was prepared to use her now to wriggle out of the mess he’d got himself into and she, like a bloody fool had presented it to him on a plate.

  Her husband was having an affair with a woman from his past. It sounded serious, more so than if it had just been a fling with a tart from his office.

  And then realisation dawned and Lydia had to bite back a cry of anguish. Charles was seeing Rebecca’s mother, Nancy. Her scumbag husband had gone back to his old hunting ground. Lydia pushed the thought to the back of her mind. “You look exhausted,” she said, “Go and have a lie down while I make dinner, you look like you could use a drink, or two. And don’t worry, if the police do check on you, I’ll tell them my friend Shelly gave me a ride home, she’ll back me up.”

  Lydia watched the expression of relief cross her husband’s face. She knew the words he’d uttered about seeing another woman had been born out of panic and instantly regretted, but silly naive Lydia had supplied him with a plausible explanation and a get out clause and already he was relaxing, reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the sideboard. He was actually grinning as he headed out of the door.

  The moment Lydia heard her husband’s heavy tread on the stairs she settled in her favourite armchair and got ready to phone the police station. They would understand her concern when she explained that Charles had come home smelling of alcohol and admitted to running over a woman. She calculated it would take them ten minutes to arrive at the house, by then Charles would have consumed a quarter of the bottle of Vodka. Hit and run, drink driving, possible manslaughter.

  He’d ruined her life now she was going to ruin his.

  Chapter 16

  Jason hesitated, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Did he really want to do this? It felt wrong, as if he was being naughty, doing something behind his mum’s back. He should tell her he was about to phone his father up in prison, that would be the right thing to do but somehow the words wouldn’t come. He’d been on the internet and read about his dad, what he’d done and shame had washed over him. He was also embarrassed that he could be a part of someone who could do such a terrible thing.

  There was no-one he could talk to about how he felt. Not Liam, it would be all round school the next day. He was torn between needing to hear his father’s voice and not wanting anything to do with him ever. It wouldn’t be fair to tell his mum, Jason realised, even though he knew she’d try and understand.

  Which was more than he did. What sane person would want to be associated with a murderer? Because that’s what his father was. He’d taken the life of another human being. Yes, he was being punished and maybe part of that punishment was never seeing his son grow up into a man.

  He could be opening up a can of worms.

  Or his father could be a changed man and if the day came when he was finally released from prison they could have a relationship.

  “No,” Jason muttered to himself.

  He still held his mobile phone in his hand. He’d done the same thing yesterday but hadn’t been able to bring himself to make the call. He’d found the phone number of the prison on the internet, in a few minutes he could be talking to his dad.

  He dialled the first number.

  His mum tapped his bedroom door and opened it, she looked pale and shaken. Jason turned his phone off.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The prison just rang me,” Beth said, her voice wobbling.
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br />   Jason’s first thought was that he’d made the call without realising it and the prison service had called his mum.

  “It’s your father.”

  Jason stared at her. Was his dad trying to contact him?

  “I’m sorry, Jason, but he’s dead.” Beth sat on the edge of the bed. “He was found this morning in his cell. He’d tied a sheet into a noose and hung himself.”

  This morning. Jason thought about the phone call he’d almost made yesterday, would that have made any difference? Would his dad have changed his mind about committing suicide if he’d known someone still cared about him? He tried to take in what his mum was telling him.

  “He’d been running a drug ring in the prison and his supply had run dry, he was frightened what the other inmates would do to him. I’m so sorry, Jase, your father died as he lived, a coward.”

  So that was it. Suddenly Jason felt an almost overwhelming sense of relief. His father had been a stranger to him in life now he could remain a stranger in death.

  The conversation hadn’t been easy with her son but Beth thought he seemed to have accepted the death of his father in his usual unemotional way. She couldn’t blame him; he could hardly be expected to grieve for a man he’d never known. She felt nothing for the loss of her ex husband and when asked if she’d like his ashes she’d promptly refused. She had no desire to create more problems for herself and she had no intention of attending his funeral in the prison chapel.

  Her living room phone rang. Beth hoped it wasn’t the prison service again asking her what sort of coffin she’d like her husband burnt in.

  “Hello, my dear.”

  Beth’s mouth went dry. “Not now, Shandra,” she said, “I’ve just had some bad news.”

  “Don’t fib to me, Bethany; your murdering husband is better off dead.”

  Beth thought she should have been surprised that Shandra knew but somehow she wasn’t. “What do you want, only I’m busy.” she said abruptly.

  “Is that the grief speaking?” Shandra gave a creaky laugh. “You’re glad he’s dead, aren’t you, my dear?”

  “Yes, and I hope he’s gone to Hell where you should be.”

  “Aren’t you wondering whether I helped him on his way? I’m looking after you Bethany, your foolish son was about to open up a line of communication, I couldn’t let that happen, not now we’re so close. You mustn’t be sidetracked from completing your mission.”

  “Lawrence hung himself.”

  “With a little help from a friend,” Shandra chuckled. “Now, you only have four more hours left so I’ll leave you to it, you don’t need any more distractions.” The phone clicked off.

  Beth stared at the phone. However impossible it seemed Shandra had a hand in the death of her ex husband. What was more frightening was her motive for doing it, to ensure Beth kept her end of the deal.

  Four hours wasn’t enough. She needed to find an Aries. The pressure was building inside her and Beth could feel a raging headache waiting to explode. She took two aspirins and tried to calm down. The money she’d already collected was in an envelope waiting for the last forty pounds.

  Beth pulled down her old address book and began leafing through it. Most of the numbers were obsolete now but they still contained birthdays. She skipped through the pages and finally came to Arthur Canton, birthday March 22nd. She couldn’t even remember why she’d put his name and birthday in her book, she’d certainly never given him a thought in the last couple of years. He’d worked at the coffee shop for two years before retiring. She’d only known him six months and hadn’t particularly liked him.

  She’d thought he was creepy, always watching her and making dirty comments about her breasts and bum. Beth had let it go because of his age, she guesses at least seventy but some of the younger girls who’d worked in the shop had ended up in floods of tears because of the way he treated them. He thought nothing of pinching their bottoms when they walked past him and if anyone said anything he would look offended and say it was just a bit of fun, where had their sense of humour gone? She remembered feeling relieved when he finally said goodbye and shuffled off.

  She’d found out later that Geoffrey had sacked him for dipping his arthritic old fingers in the till.

  That had been about two and a half years ago. Beth thought she could probably find his address from work but what were the chances he still lived in the same house? He could be in a retirement home.

  Would that matter though? She could call in and see him. He’d be surprised but she thought he wouldn’t question it, he’d always believed everyone loved him, that he was a funny old rascal and not a dirty old man. Beth phoned the coffee shop up hoping Abby or one of the girls would answer but to her dismay Geoffrey’s voice grunted down the phone.

  “You want me to give you Arthur Canton’s address? Have you lost your marbles, girl?”

  “No,” Beth lied, “While I was at work this morning I found a set of three war medals that I know belonged to him. I really want to call round his house and give them back.”

  “Little miss charity,” Geoffrey scoffed. “Wait there.”

  For a couple of minutes Beth listened to the background sounds from the cafe, she heard Abby laugh at one point and she sighed.

  “Okay,” Geoffrey sounded breathless, “I’ve got the old duffer’s address.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Beth, I’ll bring it to your house.” He chuckled.

  Oh, God, Beth thought. I’m not letting that man into my home. Jason had gone out with Liam, she was all alone. She said, “I’ll come and collect it from the cafe.”

  “Oh, no, sweet Beth, if you want to know where Arthur lives then you do it my way.”

  Beth cringed. “I’ll give you my address,” she muttered.

  “No need, I have it. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Beth raced out of the house and across the road. She thumped on Lavinia’s door.

  “I really need a favour,” she said to the startled woman. “Come and have a cup of coffee at my house, I’ve got a nice jam and cream sponge to go with it.”

  “That’s a funny kind of favour,” Lavinia said looking perplexed. She glanced behind her. “Oh very well, I wasn’t doing much anyway.” She locked her front door and followed Beth to her house.

  “Tidy,” Lavinia said looking around Beth’s living room.

  “I’m a bit of a neat freak,” Beth explained, “though I haven’t done much lately.”

  Lavinia took the plate with the slice of cake off Beth and looked at her with shrewd eyes. “No, I imagine you’ve been busy finding star signs.”

  Beth was startled. There was an underlying tinge of accusation in Lavinia’s voice. She was tempted to let it drop then she heard herself asking, “Did you get what you wished for?”

  “Strangely enough, I did. But it wasn’t what I expected. I don’t usually allow myself regrets but I wish you hadn’t come to my house, Beth, no offence. What have you got yourself mixed up in? I think you need to be careful.”

  “I know. It will be over soon, by seven o’clock this evening.” Beth tried to sound confident.

  “Is that what Shandra told you?”

  Beth felt a tug of panic. “Yes.”

  Lavinia shook her head. “Don’t believe her and don’t give her what she’s asking for. I really think the woman may be dangerous. You could be involved in some sort of cult or witchcraft.”

  Beth thought about telling Lavinia what Shandra had told her about the planets in the galaxy being rearranged, about the 13th star sign that would change the world forever but it sounded too silly and unbelievable. Lavinia was already hinting that Beth was gullible.

  The doorbell rang.

  When Geoffrey walked in his eyes glinted with annoyance when he saw Lavinia munching on her cream slice. Beth noticed he’s slicked his hair back; it looked oily as if his scalp had been sweating.

  “Do you have the address?” Beth asked.

  Geoffrey han
ded over a piece of paper and scowled at her. “Bothering an old man now, are you?” he sneered.

  “No, I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole.”

  It took Geoffrey a couple of seconds to grasp what Beth said and his face turned red. “Who’s she, then, your girlfriend?” He pointed to Lavinia.

  “Oh, I see. You think because I don’t fancy you I must be a lesbian?”

  “I don’t mind if you are.”

  “Why don’t you go back to your wife and Elsie and suggest a threesome?”

  For a second Geoffrey’s eyes glinted but the mocking tone of Beth’s voice finally penetrated his brain. “You’ll take the piss once too often,” he growled. And then he said something that surprised both of them.

  “I’ve been thinking, Beth, you’re a good worker, I’m giving you a pay rise.” Heat rushed to his face as the spoken words penetrated his brain. What the hell was wrong with him? He never gave pay rises. He tried to close his mouth but the strange words kept escaping from his lips.

  “I appreciate what you do and I’ll look into giving you more hours too.” Beth was staring at him as if he’d gone mad and Geoffrey thought he probably had. Damn you, Shandra, if I get my hands on your scrawny neck, you’re dead.

  “Is this a trick?” She asked finally.

  Yes, his mind screamed, a big fat ugly trick but it’s not being played on you, bitch, I’m the mug on the receiving end of it. “No, no,” He assured her through frozen lips, “No trick. Well, I’ll be off then.”

  Beth watched him leave stunned. He’d actually offered her a pay rise and in front of a witness.

  Lavinia left a few minutes later and Beth checked the address Geoffrey had given her; 18, Winchester way. It was on the west side of town, about a twenty minute walk away. She put on her coat and set off, the sooner she got it over with the better. She wished she’d learnt to drive but the expense had prevented her. The car tax and insurance would take too much of her earnings. It would be nice to get out more, though, she thought, and then laughed to herself. Here she was, supposedly on a mission to change the formation of the galaxy and she was thinking her world was too small, the irony of it didn’t escape her.