Read Online The dark side of my soul by keith lawson - Free Book Online

garden and our home as clean as it had ever been since we moved in, Sandra prepared dinner which we both devoured with surprising gusto. At six thirty, ignoring the dishwasher, we washed and dried the dishes for something to do, before moving into the lounge to wait for the dreaded call. It was not yet completely dark outside. The days were getting longer as the year wore on.
    We did not turn on the radio or television. We sat in silence waiting, hoping that the blackmailer had changed his mind and decided not to go ahead with his plan, hoping that we could get through the evening without hearing any more from our tormentor. The only sounds were that of our breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock. At ten minutes after seven the telephone rang and the caller display read ‘number withheld’. I took a long deep breath and picked up the receiver but did not speak, waiting instead for the person at the other end to make the first move. After an uncomfortable delay the strained nasal tone of the man’s voice came on the line.
    “Do you have the money?”
    “Yes”
    “All of it?”
    “All of it” I confirmed.
    “Okay, that’s good” Did I detect a note of surprise in the voice? “Lyminge forest tomorrow; seven thirty in the morning; come alone; bring the money. Do you know the forest?”
    “Yes,”
    “Do you know the Roundwood golf club?”
    “Yes,”
    “About half a mile past the golf club you’ll see a track on the right that goes into the wood. Go down the track for about one hundred yards. Wait there. If we see anyone else around we go to the police. If you do not have all the money we go to the police. Do you understand?”
    “Perfectly,” my worst fears had been confirmed. They had picked a quiet and lonely place for me to hand over the cash. I was even more convinced that I was dealing with the Romanian relatives of the woman my wife had killed, the ones Archie Haines had warned me about.
    “Don’t be late.” There was a chilling threat in those final words before the caller rang off and I gave an involuntary shudder as I thought of what the next day might bring.
     

 
     
    Six
     
     
     
    I was early. It was before seven o’clock and the dawn had only recently broken as I turned off the paved country road onto the track. A heavy mist hung overhead like a blanket obliterating the sky and on either side the trees, not yet in leaf and with no wind to stir them, stood motionless in their dewy cloaks, their trunks like ghostly apparitions appearing out of the wet damp fog that meandered between them.
    The track was gravelled and wider than I had expected, no doubt used by the vehicles of the forestry workers and tree surgeons but this morning it was deserted. The mist moved mysteriously between the trees and conspired to hide the way ahead in damp greyish white sheets.
    I proceeded with extreme caution along the route, watching the ground in front to make sure that the gravel didn’t suddenly end and my car plunge into deep mud from which I could not easily escape. I had gone almost the designated distance when the surface ahead changed, became rougher with cracks and potholes and I decided to go no further. At this point the trail was wide enough to make a multi-point turn and I carefully manoeuvred the car around so that it ended up facing the direction in which I had travelled, thus facilitating a quick exit should one be necessary.
    Through the haze I could just make out the road at the end of the track. On arriving I had been tempted to leave the car on that road and walk into the forest but I had discounted the idea as it would leave me vulnerable and without any means of a quick getaway. Now I began to doubt my decision. If the blackmailers arrived in a vehicle they would almost certainly come the same way and block my escape route. I debated whether or not to drive to the end by the road and wait there. That seemed to be the better option but on the other hand I had the gun and if I