The 13th Black Candle

by Bob Goodwin

  ‘Things settling down out there, Johnson?’

  ‘Seems to be. What’s going on here?’

  ‘My secret weapon.’

  ‘Mr Leopard Tank, I presume?’ She looked him up and down with admiration and extended her hand.

  Chapter 38

  Confessions and Apologies

  With a grey blanket draped over his shoulders, a forlorn Simon Stacey stood silently next to the police vehicle. Two uniformed policemen flanked him. Other plain-clothed detectives wandered among the other parked vehicles, opening doors and boots, taking photographs, and jotting notes in diaries. John Cochran soon joined the quiet trio. He gestured to one side with his head and the two custodians left.

  ‘It’s all over,’ said Cochran plainly. ‘It’s time to come clean, and I would suggest it’s in your best interest to do so.’

  ‘I suppose it is. Where do I start?’

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened after you left Duncan’s place.’

  ‘Okay, but let me say that up to that point I had no idea what was going on, and I had nothing to do with any of this 13th Black Candle bullshit.’

  ‘I’m listening,’ replied the inspector, not conceding the point.

  Simon went through the story of the confrontation with Romoli when his house exploded and he shot the cult leader in the head — by accident.

  ‘I dropped the gun there and then. I wanted to get to the house but it was impossible — the heat was too intense. The house began collapsing within minutes. I never moved the guy from the pool and that’s the truth,’ said Stacey openly. Cochran nodded. ‘I couldn’t get near the house. It was engulfed in flames within seconds. I knew anyone inside had no chance. I tried telling myself that Alison and Robbie were not even in the house. I was stunned and shocked. I just couldn’t comprehend the whole thing. And I still don’t know if I ever will. What would you have done? A gun in your hand, a dead man in the pool, and your family incinerated in front of your eyes? I got in the car and bolted. I needed time to think. It wasn’t until I came back later that I really started to believe that Alison and Robbie had really been murdered.’ Simon lowered his head. ‘Well, thank God I was half-wrong.’

  ‘Little Danny Goldsmith was used as a substitute for your son. Roughly the same age, height, and weight, and burnt so badly that no one would ever know the difference.’

  ‘Yeah, I know all that now. That’s why they were able to blackmail Ted. I’ve been putting all the pieces together, but the bastards were always one step ahead of me. And I know now why Goldsmith induced Alison’s pregnancy ten days early. All so this Bodytune, six hundred and sixty-six day crap could fall into place. They murdered Alison because she would have known all that.’ Stacey paused, took a couple of deep breaths and had a big swallow. ‘Jesus, Cochran, we need to bring back the death penalty.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. At least we could accommodate a couple of the pricks in that regard. Tell me. The psych ward. A lucky guess or what?’

  ‘Lucky? Perhaps. There were several phone numbers on those newspaper clippings. Mine, yours, Duncan’s, Angela Philpot’s, and one other, which I rang.’

  ‘Ward 21?’

  ‘Sure was. It sounded like the perfect opportunity to do a little research and to get away from you guys. In retrospect, I wouldn’t recommend it. That old guy there called Ras — ’

  ‘Otherwise known as George Hartley.’

  ‘Yeah. He knew. I’m sure he thought I was involved. He goes to hospital around every Friday the 13th for protection and look what happens. Fuck!’

  ‘That little hospital stunt of yours may have saved your life. I sent Briggs to your club to do a little quiet surveillance.’

  ‘Briggs? Quiet surveillance?’ said Simon, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah, I know. It was calculated to get you two to provoke one another and blow open two investigations at once.’

  ‘He wanted to kill me!’

  ‘Yeah. I didn’t figure he would go that far. Sorry,’ smiled Cochran.

  ‘How did you know that he and I…well, that we used to…you know what I mean. How did you know?’ asked Simon.

  ‘Carter, my ex-friend. He knew someone who knew someone. And Schliemann found drugs on Briggs when he busted him at your fitness club.’

  ‘Clearly Briggs never left the business,’ nodded Simon. ‘So, Carter ends up being Romoli number two then? Tell me, who dragged his predecessor from the pool?’

  ‘Carter did it himself. Possibly with help from some of the others. One thing I’m sure of is that Carter was in the pool, boots and all. Shoes that smell that bad you don’t forget easily.’

  ‘I remember the shoes. Propped in front of the heater, stinking the place out. It seems so long ago,’ recalled Simon.

  ‘It’s partly due to those shoes that your son is still alive.’ Cochran related the salient details of his search of Carter’s home. He leaned casually against the car door as he spoke. Everything was now in hand; it was time to take a moment to relax and reflect. Both his sense of relief and achievement were tempered by feelings of loss and deceit. Cochran continued talking, bringing up numerous aspects of the case that had proved most frustrating. The two men spoke about their recent ordeals. For the first time since he had met Stacey, John Cochran found some pleasure being in his company. It was quite a turnaround for two men that seemed to have had so little in common to be agreeing on so much now.

  ‘Perhaps if we had been a little more tolerant of each other in the beginning we could have put these morons to rest sooner,’ conceded Cochran.

  ‘I know I can be a bit of an arsehole sometimes,’ admitted Simon. ‘I have a problem with authority figures. I like to be the one calling the shots. I haven’t been able to do much of that lately, and I can assure you it’s been a most sobering experience.’

  ‘We can afford to be less formal. Call me…’ He paused in a moment of ambivalence. ‘Call me J. C.’

  ‘Okay, Cochran, and you can call me Simon.’

  ‘Glad we sorted that out. Now, Stacey, we must get back to the business at hand. I happen to have a few trinkets with me.’ Cochran reached in through the window of the police car. What he displayed in three plastic bags came as no surprise to Simon. There was a gun, a snake-handled knife, a set of keys, and a micro-cassette tape.

  ‘Oh crap,’ said Simon submissively.

  ‘These items are of course important court evidence. This evil-looking knife,’ said Cochran, pausing to display the appropriate bag. ‘And this .38 calibre Berretta semi-auto will both be identified as the murder weapons of Eddy Anstey, the male nurse, and Orson Ruscliffe, otherwise known as Oswald Madison. Or if you like, Romoli number one. It would be reasonable for a jury to conclude that the fingerprints on these, and the confession on this tape, belong to a brutal killer. Now, I would like to point out that there will be another inquest into police corruption. Your fingerless ex-racing colleague will be making an appearance. I want to nail him, Stacey. Do you get my drift?’

  ‘Well yes. I think I’m beginning to.’ The inspector upturned one bag. The tape fell to the ground. Using his handkerchief, he bent down and picked it up. The tape had caught on his shoe. He pulled hard repeatedly. The tape spools spun rapidly until the tape snapped and the small cartridge was empty. His shoe ground the thin plastic ribbon into the dirt.

  ‘You are a very persuasive man,’ said Simon, looking down at the remains of the tape. ‘However, there’s still some other things worrying me.’ Cochran emptied the other three bags.

  ‘Would you look at that? You just can’t trust people to seal up evidence properly these days. Now they’re all dusty.’ The inspector retrieved the two weapons and the keys and thoroughly wiped them with his hanky and shirttail. ‘That’s much better.’ He dropped them back into the plastic bags and returned them to the car.

  ‘There is another item. I believe it’s in Carter’s car boot,’ said Simon.

  ‘Okay, his car is still back at his house, and I do have his house key.’r />
  ‘It’s a jerry can. It has my fingerprints on it. The bastards left it strategically placed in my driveway so I’d have to move it.’’

  ‘Shit, Stacey. They weren’t leaving anything to chance. I can attend to that as well. Now, is there anything else?’

  ‘I hope not,’ replied Simon. ‘I have thought it over, and I would be quite delighted to have a long chat about Briggs. He was always trying to squeeze more out of a deal than he deserved. I never did like him. I like him less now.’

  ‘Excellent,’ cackled Cochran. ‘Stick that up your arse, Commissioner.’ He did a little uncoordinated jig and then slapped a high five with Stacey. Both men smiled.

  ‘You two all good mates now?’ It was Cathy Johnson.

  ‘Hello, Johnson,’ said Cochran. ‘We have been discussing a few matters and we have come to an understanding.’

  ‘Hi there,’ said Simon sheepishly. ‘I think I owe you an apology.’

  ‘No. Not at all. You were under enormous stress. It’s okay.’ She looked at Cochran. ‘We identified the bitch that tried to stab Stacey’s boy.’

  ‘Yes!’ interrupted Simon. ‘Kym Sharma. Cold, calculating. An absolute psychopath. She had me hook, line, and sinker.’

  ‘That’s her. A nurse at Ward 21.’

  ‘Very clever,’ added Cochran. ‘She knew we were coming to her house to identify her. She put someone else in her place. No doubt Carter gave her the heads up.’

  ‘She is still alive. And I think she ate Carter’s tongue.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Cochran. ‘What’s with the tongue removing and eating?’

  ‘Not absolutely sure. I think it’s all — ’

  ‘Romoli,’ interrupted Simon again. ‘That’s how they supposedly keep his stupid spirit alive, or some such shit.’

  ‘Sick and twisted fucks!’ Cochran shook his head.

  ‘One more thing,’ announced Johnson. ‘There’s a car down there.’ She pointed along a row of parked vehicles. ‘The fifth one along.’

  ‘That Mercedes?’ said Simon. ‘Not mine. Same colour; different model.’

  ‘What if I told you it used to be white?’

  ‘My old car! Which of those bastards — ’

  ‘Goldsmith, who else?’ said Johnson.

  ‘They nearly had you, Stacey,’ nodded the inspector. ‘Nearly had you crucified! As for you, Johnson… I… well, let’s say…well…never mind. Just come over here.’ She took a step towards her boss. He grabbed her in a big bear hug. ‘Good to have you on board, Johnson. And thank you.’

  Chapter 39

  Sex on the Beach

  Charlie rolled onto his back and gazed wide-eyed at the stars.

  ‘Wow! That was magic, Deb. Beautiful. Everything and more than I imagined it would be.’ The brunette turned on her side and snuggled up close to Charlie. She positioned one leg over his waist and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  ‘It surely was. You’re a wonderful man. I’m so lucky.’ She squeezed him tightly. ‘I just want to eat you all up.’

  ‘Well, the night is still young, and I think I’m getting my second wind.’ The two chuckled and kissed. For several minutes they lay in a quiet embrace on a blanket on the beach, enjoying the peaceful afterglow and listening to the gentle sound of the waves.

  ‘Been quite an evening,’ said Charlie softly.

  ‘You were so brave, Charlie.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. I was bloody angry, though.’

  ‘You’re a big hit with Bruce. Anyone who helps him with his gardening, especially when they organise a free delivery of woodchips and sawdust, is a friend for life.’

  ‘Yes, and I’m still a bit sore.’ Charlie twisted himself slightly. ‘That full body massage you were talking about sounds like just what I need.’

  ‘That’s guaranteed, and very soon,’ said Deb with a warm whisper in Madden’s ear. ‘What did you think about my little surprise?

  ‘Your son? What a wonderful boy. You should be very proud.’

  ‘Oh, I am. But I do prefer to keep my personal life separate from my work. I’ll share everything, though, with the right person.’

  ‘Sounds like an invitation.’

  ‘Might be.’

  ‘I like kids. He’s about eighteen months, right?’

  ‘Just on.’

  ‘A lovely age.’

  ‘What about that secluded, candlelit place you were going to take me to tonight?’ asked Deb.

  ‘We might take a rain check on that. I believe there’s going to be a larger crowd there than I expected, and that would spoil the intimate atmosphere. Besides, a blanket on the beach with a gorgeous aerobics instructor is something else, and I’m not about to give that up easily.’ Madden faced Deborah and ran his fingers lightly over her face. Her mouth sought out his wandering hand. She sucked and licked his fingers hungrily. ‘Let me tell you,’ said Charlie. ‘That goes straight down to my groin.’

  ‘Good. That’s exactly what I want.’

  Chapter 40

  Unfinished Business

  The strengthening sunlight creeping through the slits around the heavy curtains and the sound of a dog barking in the distance caused Simon to stir and wake. He yawned and stretched. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had for months. Insomnia, coupled with horrific nightmares, had plagued him since the traumatic events of last winter. In recent weeks, thanks to his regular sessions with Dr Hutchinson, the disturbing dreams had begun to decrease in frequency and intensity. He turned onto his right side. Robbie was facing him, still sound asleep, with his head neatly cupped in the feather pillow. Simon wasn’t the only one having a protracted recovery time. It was around ten o’clock last night when Robbie had stirred and was bedded down yet again with his father. The young boy’s story of seeing an ugly witch was consistent with the many others that had often caused him to become frightened. Simon had reassured his son, locked the bedroom door, and both had gone to sleep.

  Simon studied his Robbie’s face. The smooth, flawless skin, the full, pink cheeks and his long, dark eyelashes he’d inherited from his mother. Yes indeed, a good-looking young man, thought Simon, as he leaned across and kissed him gently on the forehead.

  ‘If only your mother could see you now,’ he whispered. Simon, dressed only in a pair of red jocks, rose, ventured slowly to the window and opened the curtains. Outside there was a light breeze blowing, causing a steady ripple across the surface of the pool. The rose gardens were in bloom. All the garden plots were just as Alison had planned. Simon, never a keen gardener, had worked especially hard to present the garden exactly as she had wanted it. The house, too, a near duplicate of the original, reflected much of Alison’s taste.

  Simon followed the cobblestone path with his eyes, past the rose gardens, the swimming enclosure, the two pergolas, and the multitude of native trees and shrubs. Between some overhanging branches, he could just discern the end of the pathway near the green garden shed. He moved his face closer to the glass. There was an animal there. He unlatched the window, opened it, and peered out. It was a dog; a large, mostly black dog, just sitting quietly on the last few cobblestones, with its mouth open. Simon felt a little uneasy. He shrugged his shoulders, closed the window and drew the curtains. Black dogs are common. Must have got lost. He could call the pound later if it was still there, he thought.

  After slipping into his Japanese robe and attending to his needs in the ensuite, he gathered up the small collection of coffee cups, unlocked the bedroom door, and headed for the kitchen. Partway down the hallway he felt a small, firm object between his foot and the low-pile carpet. He hooked the mugs onto one hand, crossed his left leg across his right knee, and plucked off the item that had secured itself to the bottom of his foot. It was a small, yellow tablet. Simon rolled it slowly between his fingers, then crushed it and let the powder fall. An uncomfortable sensation below his sternum had become more prominent. He lifted the keys from the pocket of his robe and pressed a button on a small key ring remote control
. He swallowed hard before continuing on his way.

  Back in the bedroom, an alarm near the bed began chiming the tune of “Incey Wincey Spider.” Robbie stirred and opened his sleepy eyes. In a moment, he recognised the tune and got out of bed. He immediately reached behind the bedside table and pushed at something with his hand. A panel in the wall next to the wardrobe quietly slid open revealing a small, cosy chamber decorated with brightly coloured fire engines and trains. There was a small mattress on the floor, and several soft toys scattered about. Everything was illuminated by a Donald Duck night-light. Robbie picked up a teddy bear, lay down, and cuddled up like a ball. The panel slid closed.

  There was something different about the house this morning. Simon looked about the hallway and then the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of place. There was a freshness in the air that triggered memories, both pleasant and harrowing.

  ‘Roses!’ he announced reassuringly to himself. ‘They’re certainly extra strong this morning.’ Simon opened the fridge. A carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice sat prominently on the top shelf.

  ‘Oh, my God! She’s back!’ He began a frantic dash through the house, opening doors and checking rooms. The lounge and dining area were decorated with several vases of roses that were not there when he went to bed.

  ‘Holy shit!’ He paused for only a second to think.

  ‘The back door!’ A fast sprint down the hall came to an abrupt halt as his foot caught the stainless-steel plant stand. Three large pots crashed to the floor, spewing rich, black soil over the cream-coloured carpet. Stacey bounced off the wall and landed face-first on the floor. Despite his soiled gown and blood flowing from a cut above his eyebrow, he sprang back to his feet and continued to the door that opened into the garage. It was locked.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ He tried the library. No sooner in the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. An inverted crucifix made of red roses hung on the wall. ‘Oh, Jesus!’

  After sucking in a huge breath, he moved with some determination over to the bookcase and ran his fingers along some heavy, old books before settling on the one titled Great Chess Games of the 20th Century. He opened it, revealing a concealed cavity containing a Colt semi-automatic pistol.