LUCIFER'S ANGEL

by Mike S Martin

  “Connor hi how are you?”

  To his right and looking at him like she had been there for some time was Isobel, who he had met at Hugh and Sarah’s house a few days ago.

  “Hi Isobel, I’m fine how are you?”

  “Yes, where are you off to, into town?”

  Connor paused as though he was not really sure whether he wanted company on his walk into town.

  “..........yes I’m just popping in quickly to sort something out” Connor replied not offering Isobel an invitation to join him but it didn’t matter.

  “Oh ok I think I’ll join you”

  “Ok”

  They both walked at a steady pace down the tree lined road that hid the large Victorian town houses. Connor let Isobel instigate most of the conversation, quite happy to answer her prying questions into who he was.

  “So where are you from Connor?”

  “Originally I’m from France”

  “Really where about in France?”

  “The south, near Beziers”

  “Wow it’s beautiful there so what brought you here?”

  “My job”

  “Which is what?”

  “I’m a stone mason” replied Connor although this wasn’t strictly true. It was something he wanted to do when he left university but never gave his self the time.

  “Oh wow that sounds a nice job”

  “Yes it is. I like to fix things” smiled Connor.

  Connor could sense Isobel was staring at him almost in a flirtatious way but he didn’t react to it. He remained quiet unless being asked a question as they neared the shops which meant they were nearly in town.

  “Sarah told me you mostly live in France so is there where you do your stone masonry?”

  “Well I don’t exactly live in France. My parents live there and I travel to and from whenever any work comes up”

  “That sounds interesting but tiring”

  Connor just nodded as he seemed distracted by the fact that the offices he wanted to visit seemed to be closing even though it was only 12.30pm.

  “Excuse me Isobel I just have to check something”

  As he said this Connor approached the girl who was now closing and locking the door to the building she had just come out of. Isobel tried to listen to the conversation but they were too far away as Connor was seen checking his watch and nodding his head. As Connor returned to where she was standing, Isobel pretended to be busy looking in the shop window even if it was a bridal shop.

  “Getting married are we” asked Connor.

  “I don’t know are we getting married?” replied Isobel forcing a smile from Connor who appreciated quick wit.

  “No actually I work in a bridal shop just around the corner. I’m just checking out the competition”

  “Oh right”

  “Listen I’m not meeting my friend for another half an hour would you like to grab a quick coffee?” asked Isobel keenly.

  Connor agreed and explained that he had to wait another hour until the accountancy firm reopened so accepted Isobel’s offer. They chatted and made small talk, something Connor didn’t like doing, until Isobel asked him a question that captured all of his attention.

  “I’m confused Connor. After meeting you the other night and talking to you now I have to be rude and ask why you are friends with Hugh and Sarah. Come to think of it even Keith and Rachel.....how come someone like you ends up being friends with people like them?”

  Connor’s expression never changed, not even his breathing altered as he gave his response.

  “So firstly can I gather from your comments that you don’t like them, which leads me to ask why you’re friends with them also. Secondly what do you mean by saying people like them?”

  He could see that Isobel felt uncomfortable in leaving herself open and she obviously had not expected his comment back to be so honest and brutal. He had lulled her into a false sense of

  security and could see that she already regretted what she had said.

  “Oh I didn’t mean it like that. You just all seem so different. I’m sorry if I have said the wrong thing”

  “It’s ok I won’t tell them” said Connor smiling.

  Isobel chose this opportunity to proclaim that she was already late in meeting her friends and left Connor the correct money for her coffee, placed her handbag over her shoulder and made her escape. Connor’s smile disappeared as Isobel vanished out of sight down the street. He placed his hands and fingers up to his mouth in a thoughtful way and pondered on the conversation that had just taken place, staring out into the street.

  “You have no idea..........you have absolutely no idea” whispered Connor to himself.

  Connor paid the bill and made his way over the road to his prearranged meeting at the accountancy firm. It only lasted five minutes before Connor was leaving and closing the door behind him and glancing at the person watching him leave from across the other side of the road. Isobel had no idea Connor had seen her but he didn’t let on or acknowledge her. She was convinced she had gone unnoticed.

  On arriving back home to his apartment, Connor immediately undressed and spent his usual half an hour soaking in the shower. With his head bowed he just stood and let the water run over his lean and athletic body, watching the rivulets form patterns on his brown, tanned skin. Slipping his jeans and a tee shirt on after drying himself he opened the lounge window to let the warm summer breeze cool him down.

  There he sat in silence immersed in his own thoughts for a while, building up the courage to open up his laptop. Placing the disk inside, he waited for the menu to ask him if he wanted to open the folder on it. Pressing the mouse to view the files, the screen burst into life with a variety of options. He carefully studied them all and clicked onto the one he wished to view.

  The music from the BBC news bust into life as Connor’s expression became dark and dazed.

  “Our main headline tonight. Police now believe the family that perished in the fire at their country house in Herefordshire three days ago may have been victims of a suicide, instigated by the husband and father of the family Steven Chevaal. It is believed evidence unearthed by forensics at the scene show that he may have shot the family including his wife and daughter before setting fire to the property .It is believed he then turned the gun on himself. The only survivor of the tragedy, five year old Connor Chevaal, is still in hospital with family members who have travelled from France to be at his bedside. Police believe he may hold vital clues into what happened in the house. The initial fears that the tragedy was the result of a robbery have now been dismissed as police have been finally allowed into the burnt out house after it has been made safe by the fire authorities and building inspectors. We can now join Phil Buckley at the scene, Phil what are the police saying at this moment in time?

  ”Connor sat and watched betraying no emotion. A deep breath was the only movement and sound that came from him as the news reader passed the interview over to the reporter on the ground who was stood in a field near by that had a view of the garden and the burnt out remains of the house.

  “Debbie what the police here are saying at the moment is that even though it may take days before the true picture of what happened here emerges, it seems the doors and some of the windows were barricaded from the inside, preventing escape for those inside, indicating that this was premeditated and planned. They have no idea yet why this horrific act was undertaken by what looks like the father but what they will say is that they are ruling out foul play from an outside source and are looking for no one in connection with this tragic event”

  Connor closed his eyes and as clear as though it was yesterday, the vision of his family sat in the garden having dinner in the evening sunshine appeared.

  *

  22nd June 1985.

  “Connor sweetheart come and have a piece of cake”

  “Ok mummy I’m coming”

  “Quickly otherwise your daddy will eat it”

  Connor watched from the fence sur
rounding the garden as his dad picked up the piece of cake and pretended to put it into his mouth.

  “No daddy don’t eat it its mine”

  “Well hurry up Connor because daddy is hungry and this cake looks delicious” said his father teasing him.

  Connor ran as fast as he could in case his father was really going to eat his cake.

  “No...no...no daddy”

  Connors father placed the cake onto the ground and grabbed him, tickling him and turning him upside down.

  “You have to give daddy a big kiss before you can have cake”

  Connor was now being held upside down with no escape as his father kissed his face, forcing him into uncontrollable laughter.

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll eat you instead......come here..........”

  Connor’s dad made growling and chewing sounds as he also blew raspberry noises on Connors face making him laugh even more. Then his older sister Molly joined in, screaming with delight at the fun and games before everyone including his mother ended up in a heap on the floor laughing and shrieking with delight.

  *

  12th June 2011.

  Connor awoke from his daydream with his heart pounding but he was not upset. The tears had long dried up years ago, instead he was filled with inspiration and determination that his plans were finally coming to fruition after years of scheming and manipulation. It would not be long before he no longer had to pretend to be Connor Rogers and could re- start his life as Connor Chevaal. Revenge for his family would have to come first though. To remember what happened immediately after the fire at the house Connor did not require to close his eyes. It was there in the forefront of his mind and had been for the last twenty five years. Over the years he had managed to obtain news footage of the event that had robbed him of his loving and caring family.

  The first time he watched them it tore his insides and his life apart. The speculation and the guess work surrounding the reasons why his devoted dad had succumbed to such an atrocious act nearly drove Connor to suicide. Of course for years he was kept at a distance from all the delving and scrutinising from the authorities because he was too young and too traumatised to be drawn into the enquiries. His father’s parents, Connor’s grandparents, did a tremendous job in protecting him from interrogations and whisked him away to France to hide him away from the media and sympathetic eyes.

  It was also this family that when they thought the time was right and they knew he would be old enough to understand, told him everything they knew about what had happened on that fateful day and what had perhaps caused it. For weeks and months whilst growing up, Connor would stand in the grounds of his family’s house in France and look into the direction that he knew to be England and long to hug his family and see them all again. To understand what had happened was not yet in his mind, just the longing to see them and feel his father’s arms around him and feel the warmth of his mother’s kiss on his face. The longing to be in the garden once again playing and climbing the trees and riding his bike down the drive to meet his hero father from work was sometimes too much. Even though it was hundreds of miles away he would look over the hills in the distance and imagine that the family house was just behind them, making him sad and lonely.

  He clearly remembers the day he approached his grandfather and asked him for the first time. He was only twelve years old and it was the year 1993. He had not even watched or read anything about the events that changed his life forever.

  “Granddad I want to know what happened and why it happened”

  “Connor when you are older and able to understand what you want to know I will tell you. Until then just know that your mother, father and sister loved you very much”

  For the following two years this was the answer Connor received whenever he asked probing questions. That all changed one day when he asked a question that made it clear to those around him it was time.

  “Grandfather why did my father try to kill me?”

  Chapter 4

  His grandfather and grandmother were old, way too old to be looking after him but under the circumstances they were determined to keep him as far away from the scene as possible, even if it had been 9 years ago. They were also the only close family left who could bear the burden but Connor’s grandfather secretly preferred it this way. They were both in their late 70’s and had lived 20 of those years in the south of France in a place called Beziers having moved from Tunbridge wells in Kent.

  Connor remembered the day as being wet outside with the rain lashing against the windows as his grandfather sat him on his lap looking out across the fields as rivulets of water ran down forming patterns. The 14 year old remembered his grandfather’s long white beard tickling his neck as he pieced together the events of that night. At the time Connor did not realise how hard it must have been for his grandfather to tell the story because Edward Chevaal had been his Grandparents only child.

  “You see Connor I received a phone call from your father that night confirming what he had suspected for a long time and that was the company and everything he had put into it was about to be taken from you all. His mother, your grandma was worried about him but I was confident he would sort it out. I should have suspected something when he wasn’t his normal chatty self on the phone but I dismissed this as him being too busy to make small talk. He had been in tricky situations before and the long silences on the phone were nothing new to me. We said our goodbyes and that was the last time I spoke with him....”

  Connor watched as his grandfather tried to hold back his emotion whilst rubbing his eyes.

  “After that Connor my boy you were the last person to see your father alive and although you have told us what you saw in the house that night I still find it hard to believe and I can only imagine the horrors you witnessed”

  “Why did father do what he did? He loved my mother, Molly and me so much. I miss them all grandfather”

  At that Connor broke down crying and hugged his granddad as tight as he could. He was still just a teenager and even though he’d had time to think about that fateful night whilst growing up it still seemed as though it had been in another life.

  They both gathered themselves before more details were revealed, Connor focusing on the droplets of rain still running down the window in front of them.

  “You see Connor perhaps if you had not survived that night or maybe if you had not seen what you had seen I may not feel compelled to tell you this but I think you deserve to know as much as possible. That night might have been the beginning of a new life for you but for your father it was the culmination of months of stress.”

  At that Connor’s grandfather pulled off the desk next to them a folder bulging with different coloured pieces of paper. Some were copies of police reports, others were newspaper cuttings.

  “Your grandma would not approve but I think you should read this. Take your time and when you are ready you can have the next part”

  Connor held out his hands as the old man placed the five page report in them.

  “I warn you Connor that you will get upset but you have to be strong. Do you understand me?”

  With a solemn face Connor nodded and indicated that he would take them up to his room. His grandfather realised how much responsibility he was putting on him but he felt it was only a matter of time before he would start his own search for facts. It would be better if he found out this way. The first one was a police report on what happened that night based on forensic finds after the fires had been put out. The report would provide no problems for Connor as at the age of fourteen he was top in his class at English and could speak French fluently and also some Spanish. What would provide a problem though was the content and him coming to grips with why his father would carry out such an atrocious act on his own family. He read slowly with love drowned eyes as the report explained in order how his father’s plan unfolded.

  The evidence showed that he did barricade up the doors and most of the windows in the house to make sure he took ev
eryone with him. Connor knew this already because he struggled to escape that night, seeing for his self, furniture pushed up against doors and any other available exit. What Connor didn’t realise at the time was that the front door he had entered the house by was the last door to be locked, enabling his father to have access to the buildings outside to set fire to them. He shuddered at the fact that a minute later and he would have arrived back at the house to probably see it ablaze and perhaps would have tried to get in to save his sister, or even worse if he had been a minute earlier he might have bumped into his father and been spared no mercy. Whilst inside the house and upstairs searching for his sword his father had started the killing spree.